Fix
by Burntsugrr
Summary: Sara undergoes therapy. Grissom faces a woman from his past. Will the two things push them further apart, or create a road toward each other?
1. Default Chapter

Fix chapter 1

"I uh, smile stupid." Sara picked nonexistent lint on the edge of the couch.

"Good. What else?"

"I talk too much."

"You?"

Sara smiled. "Yeah. I don't know why. But I say stuff and then I wish I hadn't, before it's all the way out of my mouth and instead of shutting up I keep talking faster and faster."

"You know why."

The smile faded. "Because I want him to know me."

"What does he do?"

More picking at the poor fabric, "Do?"

"When you talk too much, too fast."

"Sometimes he ignores it. Sometimes he gets annoyed." Sara's face darkened to a near frown with the word annoyed.

"When?"

"Which?"

"Both."

"He ignores it when it's just us, or if it's a casual conversation. He gets annoyed when other people are around, or if we're busy."

"So it doesn't depend on what you say, but the circumstances in which you say it?" The heavy woman leaned back in her chair, touching her fingers together. "What do you think that means?"

"He's not listening."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm being stupid." Sara's knees met her chin, her sandals balancing on the edge of the couch where her fingers had plucked.

"Are you stupid Sara?"

"I don't know." her voice faltering.

"Is Grissom the kind of man who would hire a stupid person for a job so important?"

"I guess not." She wiped at her eyes.

"You guess?"

"No. He isn't." Now she met the other woman's eyes.

"Your strength comes from his decision not yours."

"At least I have some."

"It has to come from you or it won't last."

A buzzer rings.

"Times up for today. How're you feeling?"

"I'm okay." Sara unfolded herself and stood.

"Take some time and get a water from the fridge if you need to."

"Thanks, I'll be fine. Have a good weekend Dr. Case."

"You too Sara. Call me if you need to."

"Thanks. I will."

They both knew it was a lie.


	2. Chapter 2

Fix Chapter 2

The girl stared at her pointed toes, pointing at the floor as though she were balancing on them, a shudder ran through her.

"Mindy? Can you look at me?" Sara's voice was tender and warm but there was no change in the face of the girl, hidden behind thick chunks of dark hair.

"I want to help you. I want to find out who did this to you but you have to talk to me okay?"

Mindy's head raised but she looked past the CSI at the curtain around her. Her eyes were hollow but searching. Sara knew that look.

"Who are you waiting for? Is there someone I can call?"

A grunt, a begrudging exhalation. "He wouldn't come."

Sara bent to look into the girl's eyes, "Who wouldn't come?"

Gone. Her eyes back to the floor, her fingers worrying the edges of the worn hospital sheet-an image lost on Sara, though it would have been familiar to Dr. Case.

"Mindy? Who wouldn't come? Your dad? Boyfriend?"

"Don't matter."

"I'm going to have to take some pictures of your cuts okay?" Sara readied the camera.

The clicking and flashing seemed to bounce off the invisible wall around the girl, there was no reaction to tell if she even knew it was happening.

In the hall Grissom talked to Mindy's college roommate who had found her, lying in the hall of their dorm, blood running down her face. The roommate left Grissom to approach Sara, "Will she be okay? Did she tell you what happened?"

"Ah, I'm not a doctor…"Sara looked over the roommate and connected eyes with Grissom who gently turned the worried girl toward him, "You can wait here and ask a doctor about her condition. We may have some more questions for you, did you give Officer Rourke your contact information?"

"Yeah, uh, my cell phone number and the dorm number, but I'm thinking I won't be sleeping there tonight."

"If you hear anything please give us a call." Grissom turned to start down the hall away from the roommate, obviously expecting Sara to follow. He stopped when he heard her voice.

"She was watching the curtain like she expected someone, when I asked if there was someone I could call for her she said he wouldn't come anyway. Do you know who she was talking about?"


	3. Chapter 3

Fix Chapter 3

"Have a seat Sara. Would you like me to close that?"

"No. No, I like the sound of the rain." Sara chose the far end of the sofa, near to the open window.

Dr. Case shuffled papers. "Girl who loves rain moves from San Francisco to Vegas. Something wrong with that picture." It was conversational, but Sara knew where she was headed.

"Five times more rain in San Fran than here. Guess I just wanted a chance to miss it. Feels like it's been raining since I got here though." Sara's eyes went out the window, her mind not far behind.

"You didn't come here for the weather though, right?" The doctor took her place across from the patient who wrinkled her nose at the question.

"Are we ever going to have a session where he doesn't come up?"

A smile. "We can have one today if you like. What do you want to talk about?"

Still staring at the rain. It was a long time before Sara found her voice. "I, we, worked a 419 at Sparks the other night."

"419?"

"Dead body."

"At Sparks State Hospital. For the criminally insane." Dr. Case's voice was even; it was always even, no matter what Sara said. This was at the same time calming and infuriating.

"Right." The knees tucked up again. "It was a really messed up case, sick stuff."

"You felt strong enough to work in that environment?"

Sara stretched her hand out to feel the spatter of raindrops from the windowsill. "I wanted to try."

"Why?"

"To see if I could. It isn't the point."

"Then tell me what you think the point is." Dr. Case allowed her to get it out, but Sara wasn't fooled, she knew there would be backtracking.

"The point is that this guy, this inmate, who had been raped by his mother, who's mother had gotten a job as a NURSE at this place so she could continue to fuck with him, this guy attacked me." Sara's voice had been angry as she described the inmate and his mother, but when she got to attack she softened.

"He held, I don't remember, a letter opener, something, to my neck. He asked me if I'm a spiritual person."

She chewed the side of her mouth, her legs pulled tighter to her. Tears slid down her cheeks but she didn't make a sound.

Dr. Case didn't dare interrupt. She had many questions, but it was more important to hear what Sara chose to be next. Her patience was rewarded.

"He chose me, because I'm like him."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"So you're thinking she cut her own face?" Greg leaned across the lunch table and stole a chip from Sara's bag.

"It looks that way." She turned the bag so he could share without sneaking.

"Why would someone do that?"

"For attention." Grissom walked into the lunchroom, folder in one hand and coffee cup in the other.

Sara looked up at him, "It's a good bet. Did we find anything on that professor the roommate told us about?"

The supervisor filled his cup and joined them at the table. "Brass went out, had a little chat with him. Mindy's in his class, getting an A. He didn't have much to say about her beyond that."

"The roommate said she's obsessed with him. Is it possible he doesn't know?"

Grissom's eyes held Sara's, "He knows."

Greg cut in, "If he knows why isn't he saying anything?"

"Probably ignores her advances, doesn't want to involve himself." Sara sat back and pushed her lunch away.

Grissom's expression was mild, "It could be that there isn't much more to say. Knowing someone has feelings for you doesn't make you responsible for them, or an expert on their private life. It's likely he's tried to keep things professional."

"The guy has to have feelings though, if she's in his class. He has to feel bad that she got hurt, or be creeped out that she hurt herself…something. Brass didn't get a read on that?" Greg pressed.

"One thing you'll learn working with us? Not everyone has feelings Grego." Sara dumped her lunch in the trash and exited the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Like him how?" Dr. Case eased Sara forward.

"Crazy." Her forehead to her knees, eyes closed, the only place left to look was inside. It was time.

"Is he crazy?"

This got Sara's attention, put the analytical mind to work. "What? Of course he's crazy. Didn't you hear me? His mother…it's unthinkable."

"So he suffered, does his pain make him crazy?"

Suddenly Sara looked small and tired. "I don't know."

"I think you do. Why do you think you're crazy Sara?"

Again, patience while Sara rocked herself, folded, closed, deciding.

"Crazy's the wrong word." Good, she was analyzing. It wasn't as helpful as feeling, but it was better than shutting down.

"Give me the right one."

"Broken." Sob.

"What's broken, Sara?"

"I am." She cried now, not silent tears slipping quiet pathways down rosy cheeks as she had in the past but great torrents that left white streaks of salt on her skin. Gulping for air she continued, "I'm wrong… Just am… Never been right… Don't know how."

The doctor let Sara cry for a bit. In another case she might have moved to the couch and wrapped the poor little bird in her arms, but she had been at this long enough to know, this one would not let her.

"How does this broken-ness, this wrongness manifest itself?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sara looked up, puffy-eyed, red faced, spent. She let her legs fall loose now, not relaxing but deciding there was nothing much worth protecting.

"It isn't to me, no. I see a girl who had some rough times, who wants to love and be loved. Nothing broken about that."

Sara turned herself on the sofa facing completely out at the rain now. "Other girls, women, my age, they have husbands and children and PTA meetings. They grocery shop and cheer at soccer games. I never got any of it. I don't understand how you make those things happen."

"You never saw them. Not up close. Your family didn't follow that model. Does being different make you wrong?"

"I'm sick of being different." Sara laid her face on the sofa back, exhausted.

"Do you want those things? A husband, children, shopping and the rest?"

"I never thought about it. I guess there was a time when I thought I could be that girl. I must have believed it when I was younger. I don't remember."

"You don't remember wanting a husband and family of your own?"

The rain had slowed, and Sara felt cheated that she wouldn't be driving home in it.

She turned to face Dr. Case once again, this time she was more composed.

"Very little of my life has been about what I want, at least until recently. I've just sort of known it was something I wouldn't ever have."

"Suppose that you could be 'that girl' as you put it. Tell me what that would be like."

"I couldn't. That's just it. You're asking me to paint you a picture in a color I don't have." Sara leaned forward, as if she were finally getting to the center of the issue. "If I knew how it would look maybe I could make it so."

Dr. Case changed tactic. "Picture those women in your mind, the PTA/Soccer mom's. Tell me in one word about their lives."

The light was changing in the room. Sunlight was beginning to peek through the clouds and Sara resented its intrusion. "Can you close the drapes?"

"Are you afraid to let the light shine on your doubts?"

"I think better in the dark."

"I'm not asking you to think. I'm asking you to feel."

"I feel better in the dark."

A smile played at the edges of the doctor's mouth. "Why?"

"No one can find me there."

It was imperative to keep Sara talking, keep her from thinking herself back into closing off. "And if someone finds you?"

"Then we'll both know there was nothing much there all along."

"What about those women Sara, what do they have?"

"Assurance."

"Of what?"

"That they're…real. That they're normal. That someone knows that they exist and would notice if they stopped existing."

"You don't think anyone would notice if you stopped existing?"

Sara grew silent again and examined her nails. She was getting comfortable in the role of nonexistent girl, but she couldn't honestly say that no one would care if she were gone.

"If you didn't show up for work tonight. Who would notice?"

"Stop. I get it, okay? Let's not do the whole ghost of Christmas future thing. I always hated that stupid movie. I know I have an effect on people's lives. I know that if I disappeared today I would be missed and that victims who never knew I existed might get a little less justice because I wasn't there to fight for it. I know Greg would worry and I know Nick would be depressed. I see all of that, but it isn't the same."

"How is it different?"

"I keep hearing this terrible old expression in my head. 'Left on the shelf.' Those people would miss me because they are used to having me around, and yeah, okay, I'll concede the point that they've come to care about me, but they never CHOSE me. It would be nice to be chosen."

"Grissom chose you."

Sara's lower lip quivered. Her chest felt heavy. "That's work."

"You were bright, certainly, but there are hundreds if not thousands of bright and qualified professionals who would love the opportunity to work in Las Vegas's Crime Lab. Grissom hand picked you. Do you think you outshone the rest professionally so profoundly that there was no other choice?"

"Trick question. If I say yes I've got an over blown ego and if I say no then Grissom bases his career decisions on personal preferences."

"But what's the answer?"

"The answer is he picked me because he knew me and he knew I was someone he could trust, not just to do the job but to be honest and discreet about the job I was pulled in for in the first place. There may have been others more qualified, but not that he knew personally and felt comfortable placing trust in."

"So he chose you, based on respect and trust."

"Yes. He chose me to work for him. He also chose Nick and Warrick. These women, they are the ONE choice of the man they spend their lives with."

"Some are. Some are cheated on, some are cheating, some are living with men that never look at them or talk to them except to make demands."

"I'm not saying I think marriage is a fairy tale. I'm just saying…it's what most people have and I feel completely unconnected to it."

"That man in the asylum, you said he chose you. Did you feel special?"

Sara nearly jumped out of her skin, but then got eerily calm. "Yes."

"Because he chose you?"

"Yes."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dr. Case caught Sara's eyes before asking, "Where was Grissom while you were being chosen by this man?"

"He, uh, I don't remember. He had gone to check on something, it seems so far away, everything that happened before that moment. He had gone to find a key I think. When he came back with security Adam had the…whatever…to my throat."

"What did Grissom do? Did he pull you away?" Not letting her eyes go, Dr. Case pressed on.

"They were locked out."

"Answer the question. What did he do, say?"

"He told the guard to open the door. He had the wrong key, Gris told him to open it anyway." Sara remembered it as if she were seeing it from Grissom's perspective for the first time. "His voice, it was so controlled, low and completely in control. He just kept saying, 'Open the door. Please open the door."

"But knowing the guard didn't have the key, an illogical request. That doesn't sound like the Grissom you've described to me."

Sara withdrew her gaze, her hands smoothed her jeans at her thighs. "He kept his eyes locked to mine, he didn't even look at what he was doing. He was telling him to open the door but it felt like he was trying to somehow stop what was happening just by keeping our line of vision."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Safe. Only I think Adam knew that because he yelled at me to look at the floor, so I looked away. That was the hardest thing to do."

"Obviously they got to you in time. Then what?"

"Adam cut his own throat when Grissom came in with the nurse who turned out to be his mother." Sara immediately disengages with this information. She loses her focus and becomes nervous.

"What did you do? Did you stay close to him, try to stop him, run from him?"

"I ran, or walked, it felt like running, to the window. I could still feel his hands on me. I didn't try to help him."

"Did he go to you?"

"Grissom? Yeah, but he kept his distance. I told him about my mom, about how she was in a place like that for a while. I told him that crazy people make me feel crazy." Sara's throat got tight; it was clear there was so much more she wasn't letting rise to the surface.

"Do sane people make you feel sane?"

The thought hadn't occurred to her.

"Nothing makes me feel sane. Sane people just help me not notice for awhile I guess."

"Kind of like working obsessively?"

Sara smiled sheepishly, "Maybe."

"How did Grissom react to what you said?"

The long legs protected her chest again, her chin dipping behind her knees. "He said he could replace me." Anger dripped from her words, more than hurt or fear Sara's anger permeated the room.

A small smile played at the corners of Dr. Case's lips, which from her was as good as a belly laugh. "How did you choose to filter that?"

"I knew what he meant, I reacted to what he meant. I told him I appreciated it, but I had made a choice to move on and I wanted to finish the case."

"Interesting Sara, but not at all an answer to the question that I asked." Business again, not letting her slide on a single note. "Later, when you played this scene over in your head, and Grissom told you he could replace you, what did you tell yourself he meant?"

The anger spilled out again, redirected, "I hate it when you do that. I hate it when you ask me questions you know the answer to just so I'll have to say out loud and see how stupid it sounds that I made it about him being able to replace me in his life as easily as replacing a light bulb in a socket. Throw me in the trash like all the other broken things he sees."

The therapist lifted her hefty frame and walked away for the small cocoon made by the chair and sofa. She raised her voice, got just a little testy, "What does that do for you, Sara? What do you get out of being broken, out of pretending that instead of comforting and protecting you Grissom wanted to throw you away and replace you?"

"What?" She was small again, anger, bravado, out the window. Her voice shook, "I don't…I don't get anything."

"Well you must. You must get something from it because you keep it and you polish it like a gemstone, this brokenness. Some people fantasize about being wealthy, some about being beautiful, others fantasize about having the lover of their dreams but you, Sara, you fantasize about the man you fixate on leaving you for trash. WHAT DOES THAT GET YOU?" The question was spit out, one word at a time. A challenge, a gauntlet thrown that must be picked up.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sara hovered near his door. She needed to talk to Grissom; only there was nothing appropriate to say. There wasn't anything new in her case to discuss, and she certainly couldn't tell him about therapy. The thing was, every now and then the desire to just engage with him in some way was so compelling she invented reasons to throw herself in his path.

In the cocoon he referred to as an office Grissom was almost a shadow. He rarely turned on the fluorescent overhead lights, opting instead to work in the small circle of illumination provided by his desk lamp. The walls were filled with objects that more or less defined him: equipment, pinned insects, and jars of specimens, bringing the space in close and offering an a safe and intimate feeling.

She went to the break room and poured two cups of Greg's private stash. Returning to his office she spoke into the open door, "Knock, knock. Thought you could use a wake up."

He smiled up at her, "Thanks…" when he brought the cup to his lips the aroma alerted him to her crime, "You pilfered from Greg!"

She shrugged, "I used gloves, he'll never find me." She stood in front of his desk, trying not to stare at him, trying not to look like she was nosing in on what was on his computer. Failing at both.

"Sit down Sara, you're making me nervous." He said it with a glint in his eye. He was in a good mood.

She sat, let her long legs unfurl in front of her, her back sideways in the chair, just two buddies having a coffee break.

Grissom drank his coffee and sat back in his own seat. "Greg's gonna miss this coffee, he's got court tomorrow."

Sara smiled, "It's cute how nervous he gets. I'll make it up to him."

A flash of pursed lips, was that annoyance from her supervisor?

"I know where he gets this stuff, I'll buy him a bag." Realizing she was out of things to say, she attempted a smooth retreat, "I'd better go check in with the doc, see if he knows anything else about my dead girl from Hutchins St." She stood, and sat again rapidly.

"Sara?"

"Whoa. That was… I stood up too quick I guess." She stood again more slowly and fought against the fuzz in her head. Suddenly she was so dizzy the goal of the door only a few feet away felt like miles. She shook her head to clear the tunnel vision and tried a few steps.

Sara moved sideways instead of forward and Grissom was instantly next to her, his hand under her elbow, she felt the heat of the other at her waist, "Sit back down, Sara, what's happening?" He sat her in the chair and crouched beside her.

Her face was mild, she tried to pass it off, "I don't know, I was fine just a minute ago. Maybe Greg spiked the coffee to catch a thief." She attempted a smile.

Grissom's fingers curled at her wrist and she was confused a moment and then realized he was taking her pulse. It must have been satisfactory because he stood and leaned on his desk.

"Has this happened to you before, recently?"

"No. Never. I guess it's just that I didn't have time to eat tonight."

He pulled his chair around next to hers then went and closed his door before he sat, so close that the small space between their thighs pulsed with energy.

"I'm concerned about you."

She swallowed hard, looked at her hands. "You don't have to be."

"I think I do. You aren't making the most self supporting decisions lately."

"Pot. Kettle." Sara countered.

His eyes softened, his lips twitching slightly, "I've been working on it. " for a moment he seemed far away. Snapping back to present he broached the smallest in the herd of elephants sitting sandwiched between them. "Have you been attending therapy?"

Petulant child. That was Sara's tone when she gave him the one word response, "Yes."

He chanced only a sideways glace at her. "Did you tell her about Sparks? About Adam?" He couldn't say "the attack" or anything that would imply Sara's victimhood.

"I feel much better now. I'd best get…"

His fingers on her knee stopped her.

"You don't' have to tell me what you said, I just want to know that you're taking advantage of this opportunity. That's you're opening yourself to this. It could help."

"I told her. I've dumped all of my skeletons on her couch, okay?"

"Good. We all need someone to help us sort the bones."

She bit her lip, trying to hold back something juvenile and accusatory. Instead she heard herself whisper, "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Who sorts your bones Gil?"

His cell phone chirped. The few words he'd uttered gave her little insight as to the nature of the call but his furrowed brow suggested the news wasn't good.

Snapping his phone shut he turned he addressed her, "I have to go. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine. New case?"

"I'm not sure. Get something to eat. If you still feel dizzy take the rest of the night off." He stopped at the door and looked back at her still sitting.

"I'm FINE." She reaffirmed.

He half smiled at her, all of the supervisor gone from his voice, "I'll call you later."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Two women shared the elevator in the Luxor with Gil. Both in their thirties, one slightly overweight, the other morbidly so. Both chattered about what to do and see next. First timers, they were easy to spot.

Gil wondered what they thought of him, if they noticed him at all. He was fidgeting and sweating, though the air was conditioned to maximum comfort range. If he stepped out at the next floor and someone asked them to describe him later, could they? His guess was probably not. No one paid attention any more. A frequently fatal flaw that seemed epidemic.

A ding announced the 17th floor. Grissom turned right as he exited the soundlessly moving doors of the elevator. Brass was outside of room 1717.

"You got here fast."

Grissom didn't answer, he narrowed his eyes to see into room. Empty.

"They took her to Desert Springs. I kept the uniforms out of the room."

The CSI moved past the detective and stood in the room, reading it. "How was she?"

"Hard to tell. I'm not a doc. Letters are on the desk." With that Captain Brass stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Grissom went to the bed. Peanut butter was smudged on the pillows, the spread and the nightstand. An open jar sat half empty with a small plastic spoon stuck in the center of the remaining super chunky.

"Brass?" he raised his voice to be heard through the door but the walls were too thick here. He opened it, "Jim?"

"Yeah."

"Did anyone try to contact her sister? Do they know where she is?" Grissom avoided eye contact.

"Didn't you read the note?"

"Not yet."

"You might want to get to that, but yeah, I sent a uniform over to take her to the hospital."

"Thanks." Grissom closed the door, leaving himself once again alone in the room.

A stack of envelopes and papers sat on the desk, neatly arranged. There was no peanut butter on this side of the room. A pen sat beside the stack, a note on top was the only piece written on Luxor stationary.

The handwriting was childlike with large letters that were of uneven size and legibility, but it was unmistakable that someone had take great care to make sure it could be read.

IF YOU FINE ME PLEESE CALL DOCTER GIL GRISSOM. YOU CAN GET HIS NUMBER ON THE LETTERS. PLEESE HAVE HIM FINE MY SISTER SELINA KEITH AT THE MEETING FOR RITERS. ONLY LET DOCTER GRISSOM FINE HER PLEESE. I WAN THEM TO BE HAPPY.

KERRY KEITH

His name was lettered carefully, as though she had copied it from one of the envelopes tucked under the note.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Grissom's phone chirped, causing him to jump.

"Grissom."

"You'd better come back to the lab, I found out some interesting things about the prints at the Mackenzie place."

"Now's not a good time Catherine."

"Well, I have to go back out there, it's a two person job. Can I pull Sara off her case for a couple hours?"

He remembered Sara's weakness, best to not force her to endure Catherine at the moment. The last thing he needed was another opportunity for the two of them to go at each other's throats. "No. I'll call Nick."

"He's off tonight."

"Wait for me to call you back."

He disconnected with Catherine and pressed 6 to speed dial Nick.

Nick's eyes creased deeply and tears slipped from their corners so helpless was he from laughter. Luna, the girl he had been dating for a month now is sharing stories from work, stories that anyone else would tell, but Luna's spin can make anything hilarious.

A woman who can make him laugh this hard is a woman who might be able to help him unwind and forget after long shifts of looking at things no one should have to see. He reached out for her hand and caressed it, the mood in the car immediately changing. Luna leaned closer; Nick ran a finger across her jaw, down her neck, slipping his hand under her hair. The moment their lips touched he felts a tingle at his thigh.

"Ah…Damn, that's me…my phone. I'm sorry." Nick sat back and pulled his phone from his jeans.

"Grissom, what's up?"

"I need you to help Catherine at the Mackenzie house."

"I'm off tonight Boss."

"Don't think of it as work. Think of it as a personal favor to me, with pay."

This flustered Nick. Grissom had never called on him for anything personal before, but had been there for him when all hell had broken loose. He certainly wasn't going to disappoint.

"Is Catherine there already?"

"No, but she'll meet you there."

"Got it."

"Nick? Thanks."

Nick snapped his phone shut and turned to explain to Luna who stopped his apology with a kiss that nearly made him forget he had a job.

His crew settled, Grissom once again opened the door to the hallway.

"I'm going to head over to the hospital." He told Brass.

"What do you want me to do with the room? Did you want to take the letters?"

"Treat the room like a crime scene, and I'm the only CSI working it. The letters can stay put for now."

Brass just nodded as Gil started down the hall.

"Uh, Brass? Did anyone actually read those letters?"

"I don't think so. My men said they just saw your name and called me. I called you."

The emergency room at Desert Springs was familiar territory, though he'd rarely been there on anything but business. At the check in desk he gave the overworked receptionist Kerry's name and was told she was in Curtain area three. He considered asking if her sister had arrived but decided not to bother. He'd know soon enough, and no amount of prior warning would be enough to prepare him to face Selina.

He was buzzed through the doors separating the working part of the er from triage and was stopped dead in his tracks by the familiar lilt of her voice behind a worn peach sheet on a sliding metal track. The lightening fast crash of memories associated to the pitch and tenor of it took him by storm and he physically stepped backward, taking a moment, in time and space to collect himself.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Sara folded her leg under her and sat on the end of the sofa closest to Dr. Case.

Taking her seat the doctor began, "I believe you had some homework for me."

"I didn't write them down, is that okay?" Sara nervously bit her lower lip. She was used to being the star pupil, but calling the assignment homework made her anxious that she'd done it wrong.

"It is okay for the session, but I would like you to journal them. Have you been keeping a journal like I asked?"

"I tried, it's hard, I work a lot and then when I get home it's sleep, eat…no time for journaling."

"Sara, if you don't make time to nourish your emotional self I can't help you. If you write out the things that you are learning, it will be easier to refer back to them and practice them when you really need them. Okay, let's hear it, ten things you get out of seeing yourself as broken."

Sara seemed to stumble over her words for a few moments and then progressed, "I'm absolved. It isn't my fault."

"What isn't?" Dr. Case made a note on a pad, something she did rarely during Sara's sessions.

"Everything. Nothing. Nothing is my fault if I'm broken. If a computer is missing a chip you can't blame the computer for not running the program."

"So you consider yourself a machine."

A dark eyebrow arched in response. "I think I try to be. Seems easier."

"Machines don't want. You do. Tell me what you want."

"I…I thought I was supposed to tell you what I gain from…"

Dr. Case cut her off. "That was the assignment, and we'll return to it, this is a fresh question. What do you want? Off the cuff, from your heart, doesn't have to make sense."

Her eyes closed. "I want to smell cut grass and know that someone I love cut it for me. I want a puppy but I can't have one because I'm never-"

"Just what you want Sara, no rationalizations."

"His arms around me. His love. To look across the breakfast table and watch him read the paper while he plays with his eggs. To go to work and find out that no one had done anything horrible to another human being just for one god damned day." Sara's fingers dug into her arms and made the flesh around them white. "To feel like a full person and not like I'm constantly searching for notes on how to pass as one."

"And what you gain from being broken, the second thing?"

The gear switching nearly threw her but she was starting to see the pattern. "I get to not risk rejection and loss."

"Doesn't everything turn to loss?"

"See answer number one. That loss isn't my fault, because if I'm damaged I have no culpability." Sara smiled. She was in on the game now. She liked the feeling of control it gave her.

"So you're more interested in blame than happiness?"

"Trick question." Sara was on the edge of her seat now, really digging in, this had stopped being therapy and started being a puzzle for her to solve.

"How so?"

"Because I'm incapable of happiness, so all that's left is placement of blame."

"What if Grissom walked in to work tonight and told you that whatever the reason was for the wall he put up between you was, it had vanished. What if he took you in his arms?"

She shook her head in the negative but kept smiling. "Couldn't happen."

"Anything is possible. Close your eyes again. Picture Grissom the last time you saw him."

Sara saw herself in the chair in his office, his hand on her wrist, her pulse racing at his touch. She described the scene to Dr. Case.

"Instead of dropping your wrist what if he had held it to his lips and kissed it?"

Sara's lower lip caught in her teeth as she watched the scene finish differently in her mind. She felt the tickle of his facial hair on her palm and her eyes flashed open. "He wouldn't."

Dr. Case was amused, "What if he did?"

"He just, you don't know him, he wouldn't."

"Suspend rationalization. No reality, just fantasy. What if he did?"

Her eyes closed again, she pictured his mouth at her wrist. "My heart would burst."

"Would you be happy?"

"God yes."

"So you are capable. Who is stopping your happiness in this case? Where does your ever important blame lie?"

"Me. Because I know it can't happen, so I base my happiness on things that aren't possible."

"You believe it can't happen, you don't know that. What do you think makes it impossible?"

Sara took her time to think this through. She splayed her hands in front of her. "He's my supervisor."

"Close your eyes again. Return to the first scenario. He holds your wrist in his fingers, taking your pulse. You understand that if he made this more intimate you would be happy. Possibly, conceivably on the road to the life you've said you would like to try. Am I correct so far?"

"Yes, but…"

"Tell him you quit."

"What?" Sara's face was incredulous, her eyes wide.

"In the fantasy. Close your eyes, feel his fingers, see his face." The doctor watched Sara as she lost herself in the visualization. "Good, now, tell him, tell him that you're quitting the lab."

"I don't know where I'd go."

"You're removing the wall you believe stands between you and happiness so complete that you yourself said your heart would burst. Finding another job would surely be worth that much joy. Tell him."

She did. Sara saw herself looking into Grissom's worried eyes and saying the words. "I have to quit."

He let go of her hand as if burned by it. He shook his head, "Sara, I'm sorry. I don't know how to… be supportive and keep the line between supervisor and friend."

"I don't want a line between us. I want you. I want to be happy."

"The lab needs you Sara."

"I don't give a crap about the lab."

He stepped further away his voice was a caution, "Sara."

"No, not this time Grissom." She saw herself rise to shorten the distance between them, "You can't be with me because of work then I choose you. I'll find another job."

"Don't do this. I'm not who you want me to be."

Sara opened her eyes slowly. "It doesn't work."

"Why not?"

"Who knows? He's as screwed up as I am. Maybe more."

"But you could fix him, if only he'd let you, right?"

"No. I don't want him to change, I don't need him to be anything but what he is."

"Let me get clear. The one source of happiness that you can find is a man who is in your perception screwed up. Why do you want to be with someone who is carrying so much of his own baggage? Where's the benefit?"

"Maybe that he won't accuse me of being messed up, he won't leave because I'm broken if he's just as bad."

"There are many wounded souls out there, you meet them every day. How did this one become so important to you?"

"When I first met Gil he was an enigma. You know, here was this guy who did this gruesome job but he was so excited about all the little things, the small processes that fit together he made you forget that the big picture was something gut wrenching. He was one of the first guys I'd met that was smarter than I was and instead of being wrapped up in some science fiction world he was like…have you read Oliver Sacks book, An Anthropologist On Mars? The title always made me think of him. He doesn't so much want to be a part of society as study it, like an ant colony."

"I can see the attraction."

"It's funny how things happen without you realizing. When I first came to Vegas it was so different. He was in a good mood unless something put him in a bad one, now it seems like it's the other way around. We used to smile, he used to make me laugh, I used to catch myself singing while I worked. It's been a long time since that's happened. He even told me I was beautiful one time. Now he barely knows I'm there unless I get blown up, or I'm fainting in his office."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

ER nurse Portia Lindney had seen Dr. Grissom here on occasion and always took notice; she was an armchair sleuth, loved mystery novels and games that required her to work out whodunit. He would never discuss details of a case with her, but shared her enthusiasm for such pursuits and was generally friendly and sweet. Today he looked distracted and not just a little lost.

She was taking a blood pressure the old fashioned way, the automatic cuffs never read correctly in curtain six, but she could see the CSI pacing by the nurses station. She would have gone out to find out if all was well as soon as she was through but instead watched as a zaftig woman in her early forties left the curtain area with that poor Keith girl in it and walked smack into Dr. Grissom's chest.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't looking, I'm really sorry." She hadn't looked at his face; she was apologizing to her shoes. He nearly didn't recognize her, but as he did he took her elbow, "Selina."

Her body reeled slightly and she lifted her eyes to meet his, "Gil." Her mouth formed words that didn't come, she settled on releasing all of the air from her lungs and allowing him to pull her into an embrace.

Grissom held her to him firmly and dipped his head to kiss the top of hers. "How is Kerry?"

Selina's eyes stayed closed and it was long moments before she answered, "She'll be fine. She didn't know it wasn't her."

He pulled her back some and his confusion registered on his face.

"I'm the one who's allergic, not Kerry. She didn't know, she thought she was. I always let her believe it because when she's upset she might have used it against me, not really understanding the gravity." She was drinking in the sight of him. "How did you know?"

"She left a note asking that I be contacted." He put his arm around her and led her to the small family waiting room, directing her to a bank of chairs with at least some privacy. "Why didn't you tell me you'd be in Vegas?" There was nothing accusatory about his tone, but she detected hurt bubbling close to the surface.

A sad smile crossed her face, "I couldn't see you, it would have been too hard. Besides, look at me…better you should remember me as I was, back when I was alive."

He brushed a stray graying wave from her face, "I am looking at you." A smile played at the very corners of his lips. "And you look alive to me, as beautiful as the day we met, and alive."

She had to laugh, "The day we met I was anything but beautiful. I was green and my hair was in knots."

His hand rested on the back of her seat, his thumb lightly caressing her back. Amusement deepened the creases at his eyes, "You look good in green, and your hair spent most of its time whipping at your face until we finally managed to tie it down with the elastic from my key chain. You would have won that Coaster Challenge too, if it hadn't been for the chili dog."

"Bravado of youth." A long pause, then, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I hope you know how much I wanted to."

"The note Kerry left, she said she was doing this so that we could be happy. She had all of the letters I've sent you stacked on her desk at the hotel under her note."

"Was the book there?"

"Book?"

"Never mind. I'm sorry, I don't know what could have made her pull such a stunt. I really never wanted to involve you in our problems."

The tiny family room filled quickly with the mother and brothers of a gunshot victim. The mother was hysterical, wailing and screaming prayers to God. Grissom turned his body into Selina's, "I'd like to say hello to her."

"I don't know, she's pretty upset." She cast a worried glance in the direction of her Kerry's curtain area.

"Seems to me she went through a lot of trouble to get us together."

"Yeah, and I don't feel good about positively reinforcing her methodology."

His lips pursed, her eyes focused on his mouth. She was completely unaware of anyone else in the room. "I like the beard."

He slid her a look, "Still the mistress of the subject change."

"You were always easily distracted."

"Only by you. Please, let me see her." He took Selina's hand in his.

She stared at their intertwined fingers and the sad smile made a return. "I don't recall you being this persuasive."

"I've been practicing."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Kerry, I'm glad you're okay." Gil spoke softly as he entered the small curtain area.

She lit up the moment she saw him. "You came! I know that. I know you would came."

Her smile spread to his face and Gil took the woman's hand in his. "I'm happy to see you Kerry, but I'm mad at you for trying to hurt yourself. We would have been very sad if something bad happened to you."

She shook her head vigorously, "No. No, no, no. You could be happy. 'If Kerry didn't need me so much then maybe'. I made sure. I made sure you would find her and be happy."

He squinted at her, tilted his head, "What do you mean, 'If Kerry didn't need me so much.' You are Kerry."

"Selina wrote that. In the book I'm not supposed to touch. If I didn't need her so much she could come back to you, do all of those things you wrote about in your letters."

Selina spoke up. "Kerry, we've talked about respecting my privacy. Gil's letters are private, and that book is off limits. I bought you lots of books of your own."

Kerry began to cry, "I know. I know that. I know I'm not supposed to. My books are all about fake people, but I like Gil. He says things that make me see them. I'm sorry. I just thought if I was gone you could do all the things in the book."

Grissom turned to Selina, "Again. Book?"

She shook her head, waved his question away. "Ker, how could I be happy if you hurt yourself?" She turned to Gil, "Can we have a minute?"

He had no choice but to comply with her request. Portia noticed him trying to find an unobtrusive place to wait outside the curtain without going all the way to the sitting room. This time she was able to free herself from duty long enough to capture a moment with him.

"Dr. Grissom, nice to see you again." He appeared grateful to have found a space to fit in, a reason to be standing in the middle of the room. He asked the nurse about a book he had recommended and they shared a few moments discussing the characters and plot points. Eventually Portia's curiosity got the best of her and she had to ask about his visit. "What brings you out our way today Doctor?"

It always unnerved him just a touch when she referred to him as doctor. It wasn't his title, though his Ph.D did give him the right to it, in this setting it seemed unwarranted when there were so many doctors of medicine close by. He reminded himself that it was a title she was comfortable with, as she used it all day, and stopped himself from insisting she use some other form of his name.

"An old friend found herself in a bit of a situation."

Portia marveled at how skilled he was at answering a question in the most polite way, without giving up one shred of real information.

"Kerry Keith. Yes, sad really. I believe they're going to have to keep her for a few days." She offered what she knew, hoping he would feel compelled to do the same.

"Is that necessary? She wasn't allergic to the peanut butter was she?"

The nurse lowered her voice, "No, physically she's fine, but it was an attempted suicide which buys her at least an overnight observation, and given her condition, they'll probably want to investigate further."

He nodded that he understood. Frustrating man.

When Selina again popped her head out of the curtain just over an hour had passed and she was surprised to see Gil still waiting.

"I thought you would have gone."

His eyes were soft as he read her, trying to determine through body language if there was more than her mind would allow her to say. He was never great with people, their motives were a mystery and he normally stuck to science, but this woman was different. This woman he knew. At least, he used to. "Do you want me to go?"

She was unprepared for the choice. She didn't. She wanted him to stay, but she was unable to ask him to. "I just don't want to hold you up, I know you're busy."

He responded to the words instead of the look in her eyes. "I'm off for the rest of the night. They're keeping her tonight?"

She nodded and bit her lip. "Observation. They're gonna think I drove her to this."

"There's no reason for that. She's high functioning, they'll see that, and they know with that come moments of difficult behavior and occasionally, depression and suicide attempts. We're lucky she was creative about her choice of methods. This could have ended badly."

Suddenly angry Selina shot back at him, she knew this could have ended differently. Did he not know that she would have by now already pictured a million different ways she could have found her sister dead, and all because she hadn't been more careful to hide the book and the letters. All because she had let her sister down and allowed her to feel the one thing she never wanted her to know, her life was in the way.

Gil let her rage at him, let her spiral herself through anger and sorrow, regret and self-loathing and then he simply held her in his arms while she sobbed.

Slowly she flattened her hands against his chest, pushing away gently. He held her more firmly. She pushed again, "Please Gil, let me go."

"I've tried for years. I don't think I'll ever succeed."

She struggled free of him, "I can't do this. Don't you see how dangerous it is? Letting you hold me only reminds me of exactly what I can't have. That safe place? It doesn't exist for me, it can't. When mom died and I left you to take care of Kerry, that was the last time I got to be the one who was comforted. Now I'm strong. Every day. Every minute. Letting my guard down for even a moment ends with this…an emergency room, my sister thinking her life is…" she couldn't finish it. "Please just go. It hurts too much to look at you."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Tell me about your father."

"What is there to tell? He yelled, he hit, he embraced and loved. There was no rhyme or reason to when he would hug you or take a swing at you. Not atypical behavior for an alcoholic."

"When did he become an alcoholic?"

"I don't know. It was gradual I guess. When I was really small he didn't seem to be angry." Sara surprised herself with the memory. She hadn't thought of her father as anything but angry and abusive in at least a decade.

It was as though the thought of him not being an alcoholic had never occurred to her. As an adult she had never taken the time to look back and remember the time before the fear began. Under Dr. Case's guidance now, she began to consider things from a different light.

Her father carried her on his shoulders frequently. Sara loved feeling tall and though she didn't have the words for it then, she knew now that she loved the skewed perception it gave her of the world she was used to seeing from a much lower vantage point.

When her mom would go out with "the girls" for a night and dad was left home to babysit he would build forts in the living room with blankets and sofa cushions and teach her to sing camp songs. They would roast imaginary hot dogs and make real s'mores in the fireplace.

Slowly, as she got bigger, her father seemed to grow more distant. She still craved his attention but it became more difficult to obtain so she began devising plots. When she wanted to be carried she would limp, feigning a twisted ankle and daddy would lift her in his arms.

She would work extra hard in school and collect papers with gold stars, stickers, words of praise on them and keep them in a box under her bed. On the increasing occasion that her father was isolating himself from her, and her mother, she would pick one of the papers and present it to him. A kiss, a cuddle, her reward sometimes included being told that she was the brightest little star in the world.

One afternoon while following her father on one of his walks she called out to him. He had been moving too quickly to keep up and though he hadn't carried her in some time, she thought he would slow and maybe hold her hand if she claimed to have fallen in one of the many holes left by energetic wild animals near their home. Lying on the ground and holding her ankle in her hands she yelled out for him.

He ignored her. If anything he seemed to walk more quickly away.

She moaned louder, "I'm hurt daddy…daddy, come back."

He kept walking.

Little Sara told herself that he hadn't heard her. She imagined stories of cars going by and muffling her small voice, or her father singing to himself and not noticing her behind.

In her heart she knew, he had chosen not to know.

It was weeks later that he was in the kitchen, arguing with her mother over money and she went to her box. She sifted through the thick stack of papers and chose just the one to balm her father's anger.

"Daddy, look." She set it on the table. Red faced, white knuckled he continued his raging against her mother.

"Daddy, I got 100, see?"

"Not now Sara." He moved her away, his fingers tight on her shoulder. Casting her into the back of the room without a glance.

"But daddy, the teacher says…"

He turned on her, "What? What does the teacher say? That you're smarter than your daddy? Is that what you want to prove? You're so smart then YOU pay all the god damned bills around here! You and your mother should do just fine as soon as the stupid old man gets out right?"

He was shaking her, screaming so violently that little drops of saliva spit from his mouth and landed on her face, mixing with her tears or shock and fear.

"Jackson." Her mothers voice turned him away from her and she ran to her room, hiding in her closet and pulling her clothes to her ears to block out the screaming.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Let's go somewhere we can talk about this. I'll wait until they get Kerry upstairs and then we can get a cup of coffee or something." There was no way Gil was going to let Selina push him away after all these years. He had waited too long for this opportunity.

"Can we do this tomorrow?" She wiped at her eyes. "I'm worn out right now, and I still have to talk to the hotel, make sure they've removed all of the peanut butter from the room. Oh God, and extend my reservation, we were supposed to leave tomorrow morning."

He shook his head. "I have the hotel room sealed, in case there was any question of what happened there. No one will have cleaned up, or even gone in. I'm the only one with permission to enter the room. Come stay with me. I can pick up your things while you get Kerry settled here."

"Gil, no." Unreadable.

"No you won't stay with me? Or no, don't get your stuff for you?" He played it purposefully obtuse.

She took his hand. "Sweet Gil. How could I stay without you and then go home? I couldn't. I appreciate the offer, but no."

"Staying with me is coming home. Don't go back." His voice was deep, quiet and dead serious.

"I can't do this now." She took back her hand.

"Fine. I'll wait."

"Gil," pleading.

"Selina." Definative.

Forty-five minutes later he tucked the white hospital sheets around Kerry's small frame. "You're all set now, you have my cell phone number right?"

"Yes. I keep it. I keep it right here so I can call if I get scared."

"Very good. I'll be by in the morning to check in on you so you'd better behave you hear?"

"I will. I promise. You gonna take care of Selina?"

He kissed Kerry's forehead and whispered, "I'm gonna do my best."

Selina returned from the nurses station with the Popsicle Kerry had asked for and shook her head at the pair of them, "You two look like you've been cooking up a scheme."

Gil winked at Kerry. "We are scheme free, of that I assure you. Now what do you say Kerry, you sick of your sister yet, can I take her away for a little while?"

"You take her. Take her to the place with the stars on the water."

Selina turned to him, "From one of your letters. She remembers everything."

She bid her sister goodnight and told her to call her cell if she needed her. She made Kerry recite the number, even though she had known it for years and then kissed her cheek goodnight. As she did Kerry whispered to her loudly, "Kiss him, not me."

XXX

"I would never recognize this neighborhood, but you get back to this diner and nothing inside has changed at all." She marveled at the place they had sat so many times before, and most notably, the night she told him she was leaving.

It had been an unbearably hot night so the two had chosen to eat out rather than make something at home. She hadn't planned on telling him in public, but when he started to talk about going to the new display at the college the following week she couldn't let him go on.

His face as she'd slid the modest diamond across the table to him had broken her heart. She'd carried the look of shock and abandonment with her every day since. Tonight she was cut even deeper by the hope she saw when she once again looked at the man she'd always love.

They ordered coffee and just like always he talked her into pie. "Kerry seems really good." It left his mouth before he could stop it, his mind focusing on his most recent interaction with her, not what brought them there in the first place.

"Other than the whole suicide attempt? Yeah." She knew. She saw the vague humor of his mistake. He was off the hook. "I was completely shocked she'd do this, I wouldn't have ever agreed to come for this convention if I had any idea. She had been in such a good mood when we left, hell, even for the first few days we were here."

He looked at the table. It was clear he had something to say, and was deciding, weighing whether now was the time or if there would ever be another chance. When the waitress had finished delivering their order Salina prompted him. "Go on Gil, say what you need to say."

It hurt him that she were preparing for this as she would a blow. Still, he had to try. "I know everything you've done was for Kerry, I love that about you. You did what you felt you had to do, in the way that you needed to do it. Help me understand why you won't consider now, trying it my way."

He watched her chew her lip, her fingers lacing around the coffee cup for strength or warmth, or perhaps just a place to keep her hands steady. His letters had said everything he could think of to convince her, there was no point repeating them now.

"She thinks she wants this, but she doesn't handle change well Gil. I know you don't think it's easy. I know you think you're prepared for the way that she is, but…" her eyes grew red and shiny with tears, "I'm her SISTER. I love her and there are times I can't stand her. How could I subject you to that?"

It killed him to sit and watch her cry. He wanted to be the old Gil, the one who could scoop her up and rock her in his arms. He settled for words. "Lina, anyone who has ever cared for someone with similar issues has felt the same way. I love her too, because she's your family, trust me to be there and make it through with you. I haven't been run off yet."

"I don't know."

The most beautiful words he'd ever heard. An opening. A glimmer of hope.

"Then let me show you. Stay with me."

"I'm afraid."

"I'm not."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Dr. Case had suggested Sara start cultivating a wider circle of friends, maybe even some female friends. It was this suggestion that resulted in Sara being at the lab during day shift. When the day ballistics girl, Kendra, had been on nights she and Sara occasionally ended up in the break room at the same time. Sara remembered casual conversation and a few shared laughs. That was the closest thing to a female friend she had experienced since college so she figured that was as good a place to start as any.

Kendra had been surprised by Sara's call asking her to lunch, but was happy for the chance to get out of the building and talk to someone new. Dayshift was dull as dishwater as far as the personalities she worked with. The two girls agreed on Mexican food and walked to a place only a few blocks from the lab.

At first the conversation was stilted. Kendra was waiting for Sara to give her the reason for the meeting, as if there were some agenda pertaining to work. After a few minutes of "Office talk" Sara gave her some idea of what was up.

"I'm glad we're doing this. I uh… you know, working all the time, everyone you meet is either a suspect or a witness. Its kind of hard to make friends." It sounded lame to Sara, but she knew Kendra was looking for some sort of explanation.

"I know what you mean. You work longer hours than I do, but when I am at work I'm stuck in ballistics. The only time I see anyone is when they're checking out a gun or asking for striation matches. Not much room for casual conversation there. You don't even get hit on as much during day shift."

"Bet you never thought you'd miss Greg." Sara smiled.

"I miss Nick hitting on me. Greg? Yeah, I miss him I guess. Mostly his music and watching Grissom groan at his antics. How's he doing in the field?"

Sara filled her in on Greg's ups and downs; things flowed freely from there. When Kendra's time was nearly up they headed back to the lab. "Thanks for asking me to do this Sara, it was fun to get out. If you aren't busy on Friday I hear a couple of the lab rats are gonna get together for Thai."

"Yeah, that'd be great. I'll meet you here again?" Was that Grissom's car pulling into the lot? What was he doing here now?

"Sure. I'd better get inside, you know how Eckley is when you clock in late."

"Yeah, he's a jerk." But Sara's eyes were following Grissom as he walked around his car and opened his passenger side door. "I'll see you then." She left Kendra and started toward the parking lot, stopping when she saw Selina step out of Grissom's car. A deep breath, and a million perfectly acceptable stories passed through her head before she continued on her way, heading into the small, gated walkway as he and his lady friend were heading out. She caught the tail end of what he was saying.

"…I'm almost always in one of the lab trucks anyway, you might as well use my car."

"Gris, hey, working an early shift?" What do you know, her voice sounded normal, even to herself.

"Sara, uh, no, I just came in to…oh," he noted the women eyeing one another, "Oh, sorry, Selina, this is Sara, I think I've mentioned her to you before. Sara this is my friend Selina." Not one more word than necessary.

The women exchanged short hellos and Sara stepped back. "I should go. I'll see you tonight I guess. Nice to meet you Selina."

Grissom showed Selina to his office, offering her the chair Sara had occupied a few hours before. Mentally he chided himself for not asking her if she was feeling any better. From the hospital to the diner, then the hotel to pick up some of Selina's things he never got around to calling Sara as he had promised.

"So that's her. She's beautiful." Selina looked down at her hands, nested on her wide thighs. "Does she eat?"

"She's a vegetarian." He either misunderstood her meaning or chose to avoid the conflict of it. He also avoided her gaze when she lifted her eyes to him.

As a young man Gilbert Grissom had not attracted the interest of many a young woman. He spent most of his free time on necropsies as a teen, and assisting with autopsies as a young adult. Social time was mostly spent at his mother's side, attempting to fill the void left by his father. At college the women he met weren't interested in him as much more than a lab partner.

As a sophomore he found himself enamored of the girl he frequently partnered with in cellular biology lab. She was sweet and friendly with him and always wanted to hear more of his stories from the morgue. His mother encouraged him to ask her out, and so he did. She turned him down gently, but the message was loud and clear-he was not the dating type.

It was two years before he asked anyone out again. This time she said yes and they dated for a few months, but his exacting nature was unyielding to human nature and she tired of being held to his standards of excellence.

He was 9 months outside of receiving his PhD when he decided to de-stress by joining in on a radio station sponsored rollercoaster challenge. The idea was to be the last person riding the coaster for a $5000.00 prize. He wasn't interested in the money, just the freedom of riding the ride for as long as he could, and letting everything else float away.

In the beginning there were 20 contestants. He shared a car with a wiry young man who would slide his hands up and down his thighs rapidly as the car climbed and dig his fingers in to his jeans as it plummeted toward land. Grissom was relieved when the first ten-minute bathroom break finished and enough people dropped out that he was able to get his own car.

Everyone knew each other by name and occupation by 3AM. There were 13 contestants left, but the brown haired girl fascinated Gil. This was before the no reading rules had begun to crop up and the woman he now knew as Selina had ridden with a book on her lap for as long as the light allowed. When the park became dim, and thus he knew he wouldn't be interrupting, he asked her what she was reading.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

She flipped her hair to the side so she could turn in her seat to look at the entomologist. It was not, it is worth noting, the first time she had noticed him.

"Ezra Pound." She answered, and then stopped speaking as they flew down the deepest drop of the ride. As the car leveled and passed the platform Grissom asked, "ABC's of Reading?"

She shook her head and the lights from the park caught bright highlights in her hair and made them shine. "Cantos. I'm impressed."

He shrugged away the compliment. "Is this Ph.D stuff? Cantos seems heavy even for an aspiring author."

She smiled, "For pleasure. We did 'ABC's' in class."

"So you thought you'd just pick up a little light reading on economics, government and culture." Tongue firmly in cheek. Cantos is considered formidable reading for the strongest reader. "Which section?"

"Fourteen and" she paused for a breath as they dipped and resumed smoothly, "fifteen."

A wicked grin crossed his face, "Are you afraid?"

"I am not," she countered, "as I have no intention of writing for a newspaper, nor do I pervert the language."

Butterflies moved en masse through Grissom's abdomen. She had caught his reference to Dante's hell represented in the fourteenth Cantos piece, filled with writers who were tortured for printing lies and mangling language. He was used to his amusing comments being met with the confused stares of his contemporaries. This girl was sharp.

"How do you know so much about Pound's work?" she asked him.

"My mother and I read it together when I was in high school."

"High school? You have to be kidding. Is she a lit professor?"

"Art historian, but an avid reader. I showed an early interest in T.S. Elliot and she took the opportunity to show me where he came from, in the literary sense. What about you, what drew you to him?"

"Insanity." They both laughed. "When we were reading the ABC's they told us that he had been imprisoned in a mental hospital until Robert Frost made so much noise they had to let him out and he took off for Italy. Some people said he was crazy, others said he was put there so that they could avoid trying him for treason. I thought I could find evidence, one way or the other, in his writing."

"And have you?"

"The more you think about it, the more slippery the concept of sanity becomes."

This time when the large hill passed neither the scientist in training nor the writer-to-be noticed it at all. They spent the next several hours following subjects as they came up, from literature to psychology, history, war, music and back to literature.

After the food break they had decided to share a car, saving either from impending neck pain. When day broke they took turns reading from the volume she carried and Grissom fell in love with the way she caressed the words with her voice.

At five the next afternoon she lost control of her chili dog and opted out of the contest. He offered to get off the ride with her but she refused, encouraging him to go on and win for the 'nerds' as they had affectionately been termed by the few riders left.

He asked for her number without the slightest fear. She smiled, "I'll be here when you win. You can buy me dinner with all that cash and I"ll give you my number then."

Doubt crept into his mind, was this her simple way of disappearing forever without the drama of turning him down?

His answer came 19 hours later when he was picking up the tab for her fettucini alfredo and she gave him 7 numbers in perfect penmanship on a flyer for an art exhibit including work by Pound's wife, Dorothy Shakespeare.

XXX XXX

"Either move or be moved." She stood and started for the door, jarring him back from his thoughts with a Pound quote as if she had followed him into his reverie. "I'd like to get my stuff to your place and then get back to the hospital."

"You should probably take a nap, get some rest." He followed her out the door of his office, Denali keys in hand.

Taking the keys to his personal car from him, and trying to ignore the tingle of his fingers against hers as he pressed them to her palm, she countered, "I'd be rested plenty right now if someone hadn't kept me out all night."

He pursed his lips, his eyes smiling, "I was long past due. You have the directions I wrote out for you to my place?"

"I thought I was following you."

"You are, but if we get separated…"

"Gil, you drove like a little old lady in your 20's, I'm not expecting Mario Andretti out of you now."

He simply raised his brows at her and she relented. "Yes, dad, I have the directions."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Damn Gil, you're a man obsessed." Selina stood in his living room and took in the wall coverings.

"I'm an entomologist." He shrugged.

"Which explains your office, but this, this is a butterfly museum." She stepped close to a display of pinned butterflies, arranged by color and size.

"Maybe they release my inner poet." He set her luggage close to his bedroom door, but not inside it. "Much converse do I find in thee, Historian of my infancy! Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart."

"Wordsworth." She identified his words, but countered with her own. "Realize what you really want. It stops you from chasing butterflies and puts you to work digging gold. William Marston."

He stood thinking for a moment, the look on his face something she couldn't read. "I wonder if I lined my coffers with gold whether I'd still be haunted by the butterfly."

"Is that a quote?"

"No. An observation. I'll, ah, put your things in here. I don't have a guest room, I'm sorry. You can take mine."

"I'm not putting you out of your bed Gil."

He shook his head, "I'll be working while you're sleeping anyway, most likely, so there's no reason you shouldn't take the room."

"We'll share it."

The ambiguity of that statement went directly to his stomach, sending the butterflies into a tizzy.

XXX

Sara found herself humming as she drove to her appointment. The day looked brighter than any in recent memory and that suited her fine. She had her window down, the wind blew her hair across her face and she laughed at how feminine it felt.

"You're glowing."

"You're overstating." Sara plopped onto the familiar sofa and favored Dr. Case with a smile.

"I must have been thrown off by that unfamiliar mouth position."

"I'm happy." Sara let her hair fall in front of her eyes.

"Let me get my calendar. I'll have to mark this down." The doctor teased.

"Easy now. I'm not that miserable all the time."

"No?"

"Well, obviously when I'm in here, I'm talking about stuff I'd rather not…but I don't just walk around under a storm cloud all day."

Dr. Case smiled. It was good to see Sara assert her joy for a change. "What sparked today's smile?"

"I don't know. I took your advice. Had lunch with a friend from work. It was nice."

"Nick?"

"No, a female friend."

"Catherine?"

"Hardly. Catherine's not the friend type. I don't think I've mentioned this girl before. It doesn't matter, it was just good to go out and be a little social. You were right about that."

"Imagine that. Did you eat at the lab, or did you go all out?"

"I met her at the lab, but we ate at a restaurant. I think we're going out with a bunch of people on Friday too."

Darkness crossed Sara's face, she looked down, recovered and lifted her head with a mask of the smile that been there only moments ago.

"Who is this 'bunch of people'?"

"Work people, day shift I think. She invited me, I didn't ask who specifically would be there."

"So she enjoyed your lunch as well." Dr. Case fished.

"Yeah. I mean, I think she did. She said she did. I was distracted when we were saying goodbye, but otherwise, yeah."

"Distracted?"

"Grissom showed up with a woman. He said something about her taking his car."

"As in stealing?"

"As in using while she's in Vegas."

"Did you talk to him?"

"Briefly. He introduced me to her, but with Grissom that get's you no where. I think he said something about her knowing who I was."

"And you took that to mean what?"

"I didn't really think about it until now. I mean, I was feeling good after lunch and went for a drive and just…didn't think about it."

"Good. What were you thinking about?"

"Him…sort of. I was thinking about something that Kendra said, about how she missed the attention she got from Nick when she worked night shift. She was saying how it was this little shot of adrenaline to her day. Day shift drags forever now that the possibility of that ego stroke disappeared.

I thought about how I used to look forward to coming to work because I loved what I did. I mean, I still love what I do, but somewhere…I can't tell you at what point, I got addicted to the little ego strokes I got from Grissom. I didn't realize, it wasn't about HIM, it was about getting that boost. "

Sara tapped her chin with her long fingers, thinking it out further. Dr. Case let her go on without interruption.

"No, I'm wrong, it is about him, to a degree, because it isn't like I don't get hit on by other guys…but Grissom is someone I respect. I don't want to…I hate to make the comparison, but it's a lot like what we talked about with my dad- when I was small he told me I was smart and pretty, then he resented me for being smart and pretty and I worked harder to show him how smart and pretty I was. Drove him away."

She curled into herself again, her feet on the table in front of her, her chin on her knees. "Maybe it isn't Grissom, maybe I'm still searching for dad's approval."

Dr. Case put up her hand, "I think in some ways that might be true Sara, but I don't want you to get too comfortable with the Grissom as father figure solution. Yes, it's true that you see him as an opportunity to work out some of the issues with your father, but I also believe that you see him as a romantic equal. You are on to something with the addiction to being validated by someone who was a possible mate. When the validations don't come you try to force them, that's a pattern of behavior since you were small, but it doesn't mean you see Grissom as paternal."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

(A/N: Concern has been expressed about this being a GSR fic with no GSR. I find their path to each other, and the removal of the blocks between them infinitely interesting. I enjoy exploring their reasons and excuses. I make no promises about how long this story will be, the only promise I make is that, in the end the GSR will prevail (sort of blowing my ending here huh?). I appreciate those of you who are enjoying the exploration with me, for those of you who think I've drawn it out too long or given them too much away from one another, I'm sorry, but maybe this isn't the story for you. There are loads of wonderful stories that flesh out a relationship between the pair that might better suit your tastes. I hope that you'll stick with this one as well, but if you choose not to, no hard feelings. Follow what stirs your imagination, as I follow what stirs mine. Thank you to all who have made it this far, hope I live up to the faith you've invested. )

"Catherine and Greg, you're still chasing down tire patterns from the missing person case out on Darling Ranch Road right?" Grissom had his team assembled at the beginning of the shift. Greg looked at Cat, who nodded that Grissom was correct. "Warrick, Nick, I'd like you to head out to this home invasion, call me if you need extra help." The supervisor handed Nick the paperwork he would need.

Sara stood with her hands in her back pockets, relaxed and interested, waiting. As the others left he took off his glasses and told her, "You're with me, I need fresh eyes on the Rastively case." He started down the hall in the direction of the temporary evidence lock up and she followed close behind.

He checked out the sheets and blankets from the case and together they spread them over the analytical table. Anyone watching would liken the motions to a couple making a bed. Each took an opposite side; Sara had a magnifying glass, Grissom the ALS. For nearly 15 minutes they worked in silence and then he casually brought up something she hadn't even remembered.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you last night. How are you feeling?"

He didn't look at her. She stole a glance at him when she tucked her hair behind an ear. Her mouth twisted into a sideways smile. "I'm fine, I told you I was. I just needed to eat."

"I got sidetracked, but I really did mean to call."

"Unnecessary. I had a veggie wrap and went back to work. No big deal."

"Good."

They returned to companionable silence.

She left the sheet and went to the blanket, picking small bits of missed trace with forceps and placing them in bindles. Her back was to him when she drew a deep breath and began, "Gris? I uh…I wanted to say thank you, for uh…everything."

He stopped working, straightened his back to full standing position and listened, but did not turn to face her. It was clear from the waver in her voice she had something to say that was difficult.

"You've been really supportive through some…tough times, but mostly I wanted to say thank you for turning me down when I…" she drew another deep breath, "when I asked you to dinner."

He was winded. He didn't expect that and his mind reeled with what it could mean. The overwhelming disappointment of her releasing her feelings for him surprised him most.

"It would have been really bad timing, I'm sorry that I kept putting you in that position instead of just letting things be what they were. I appreciate you staying open to being my friend when I didn't know how to stop asking you for more."

Now he did turn to face her, "I am your friend Sara. Is everything okay?"

She smiled, it was genuine and he thought he saw hope in it. "I'm on my way. Really. Y'know at first I thought the therapy stuff was gonna be crap, but it's helping. I'm not suddenly fixed, but I feel for the first time that I can see how feeling normal could happen."

He touched her arm, "I'm really happy to hear that Sara. If there's anything I can do…"

"I'm the only one who can do it, but thanks." She hugged him quickly and sniffed a little before turning back to the task at hand.

He returned to the sheet and then frowned. "Hey, you never told me what you were doing here earlier today."

"Nothing that requires overtime pay." She smiled at her response. No over talk, no explaining her every thought and motivation. Progress, Sidle, she thought, progress.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Selina wandered out of the bedroom and was surprised to find a fully clothed Gil snoring softly on the sofa. She sat on the coffee table and watched him sleep for a moment, studying his face for ways that time might have been unkind to him, but finding none. Reaching out she stroked her fingers through the hair at his temples and then across his forehead.

"What?" He jumped awake, unsettled at being touched in his sleep.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. How long have you been home?" she tried to steady her nerves. It had been forever, but it felt like it was yesterday he had been hers to touch at will.

He checked his watch, "Less than an hour." He shook his head to clear it and patted the sofa next to him. In his head he pushed away his mothers voice 'Tables are not for sitting.'

"You could have come to bed. I hate the thought of you coming home so tired and sleeping out here."

"I do this all the time." He thought for a moment then added, "Whenever I CAN sleep after a shift, I usually fall asleep here first."

"Some things never change. You always fell asleep on the couch after a long shift, or when you were conflicted." She smiled at the memory of bringing the afghan from their bed and covering him on their worn couch, too short for his legs.

"How's Kerry?"

"She's okay, more interested in how WE are than in what's going on with herself. They're keeping her a few more days, I'm going in today to have a family session with one of the therapists." She stood, unable to get comfortable. "Do you want some breakfast?"

His head went back slightly, his face puzzled, "Breakfast?" Remembering her, the world's, time schedule, "Oh, no. I ate lunch with Sara."

"Oh."

"You should go ahead, there's plenty in the kitchen."

"Never mind. I'll get something at the hospital. I should take a shower and head out."

He smiled at her, "Are you sure? I can make you something while you get ready if you like?"

"I don't want to keep you up. You look like you had a rough night, don' t worry, I'll manage. Call me later, maybe we can have…whatever you eat when you wake up."

He flipped on the tv, leaving the Discovery Channel for the History one before the phone rang. The conversation was brief but he was ready to walk out the door when Selina stuck her head out of his room. "Where are you going?"

She could have sworn that was annoyance that crossed his face so quickly.

"Work. Have a good day, I'll call you." He grabbed his keys.

"You just got home. You should get some sleep."

"No time. We'll talk later." And he was gone.

XXX

Even with the changes and new construction Selina found she still remembered short cuts through Vegas. Stopped at a light next to a cheap motel way off the strip she noticed an SUV like Gil's parked by the office door. As the light turned she saw two people exit the office and blinked in disbelief. U-Turning she faced the parking lot in time to see Grissom open the door to one of the rooms and step back, allowing Sara to enter before him.

XXX

"Guess Mrs. Rastively wasn't his one and only." Sara held up a photo of Bart Rastively, their vic from the sheets earlier, standing with his arms around a woman who was not his wife.

Grissom passed a glance over the photo with a non-plussed face. "Could have been friendly." He shrugged.

"Bed in the background…that blanket look familiar?" she flashed the photo toward Grissom again.

"Bag it."

He processed the bedroom, she the bath. David came, claimed the body of Mrs. Rastively from the room and went. Light in the room moved from east to west and soon the heat was stifling. Sara peeled off her sweater and set it on her kit.

She missed Grissom, watching her reflection in the mirror over the dresser he was dusting.

When they had collected everything they could for the time being he walked her to her car. "Thanks for coming out. I'll put in the overtime slip when I get to the lab so I don't forget again."

"Thanks." She smiled and threw her kit and sweater into her trunk.

"I'm going back now, if you want me to take the evidence you collected." He prompted before she slammed the back shut.

"Oh, ah, I was gonna go over and sign it in but…"

He half smiled, "Go home, get some rest, I've got it."

"Thanks." She said again, handing him her bindles and bags. "See you tonight."

She got into her car and he walked to her open window. She watched his face as he struggled for what he wanted to say.

"I." He stopped frustrated, licked his lips, began again, "I never thought you were broken."

Her chest constricted. Was it possible that he knew the things she said in her sessions? Noting the panic in her face he elaborated.

"Earlier, when you were talking about therapy. You said you weren't fixed yet," Her elbow was out her window, he touched her arm, "I just wanted you to know, when I insisted on your therapy as a condition of taking you off leave, it wasn't because I thought you needed to be fixed. I just," here he took a beat, "missed your smile."

With that he turned and walked to his truck leaving behind a dumbfounded Sara.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Evidence logged in, paperwork completed Grissom sat at his desk and rubbed his face. He was tired, but he knew he should visit Kerry before heading home for a nap. Thinking of home made him uneasy. He was happy to have Selina around, but not used to someone else in his space.

At the hospital he found them just ending a session with a therapist and waited outside for the word that he was welcome. Selina left the room as Gil entered, kissing Kerry's cheek he asked her how she felt. After sitting with her for a short time he told Kerry that he had to try and get some sleep before work, promised to visit her again as soon as he could and went to find her sister.

"That's not much of a meal, have you eaten?" He found her sitting in a plastic chair next to the vending machines, eating a candy bar.

She shrugged in response.

He sat next to her, "Kerry's in good spirits, have they said when she would be released?"

"Not yet." Selina stood, threw her wrapper in the trash and started down the hall toward her sister's room.

"Lina?" Confused by her coldness he followed her for a few steps then stopped.

"I'm going to get a hotel room, I'll leave your keys in your apartment."

He closed the space between them, "What's wrong?"

"You don't have to run to motel rooms to be alone with her."

"Her? What?" Puzzled.

"I saw you, and Sara, at the Palm Drive Motel."

He smiled, "That was work, I told you." He smoothed her hair, tilted her face up to his, looking in her eyes. "Someone from our case turned up dead in that motel. We processed, she went home, I went back to the office and then came here."

Sheepishly she smiled, "I'm sorry. Overreacting, how unlike me."

He pulled her into him and whispered to her, "You're under a lot of stress, don't worry about it." Laying her head on his shoulder she encouraged him to go home and sleep.

He agreed, and asked her to wake him when she arrived, he'd make time to eat with her before work.

XXX

Five hours into their shift Nick wandered into the evidence room. "You got a visitor boss."

Grissom looked up and saw Selina waving from the doorway. He told Sara he'd be right back and took her down the hall.

"Heard you been hangin out with Kendra from days." Nick grinned.

Sara smiled like the feline with the bird, "She misses you."

He blushed slightly, "She's a great girl, but I'm off the market."

Sara pulled her nose out of her scope, "Somebody bagged the Texas Longhorn?"

From his pocket he produced and opened a ring box.

"Bagged and tagged. Damn Nicky, this must be the real thing!" She took the box and examined the diamond. "Nice stone, lucky girl." Giving it back she hugged him, "I'm happy for you."

Catherine joined them, "Hey, who's that woman with Gil?"

Nick gave a half shrug, "Some friend of his, she was waiting for him out front so I brought her back."

Sara offered, "He introduced me the other day, I think her name is Selina, but that's all he said. You know Gris."

Cat's eyes opened wide, "I thought that was her, wow, she's changed. Wonder what Selina's doing back in Vegas."

Both younger CSI's looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"His ex? The girl he almost married? She left Vegas after he proposed to take care of her mentally ill sister and never came back. Wonder what's going on?"

Nick looked at Sara, who's color had drained from her face. "You alright?"

Recovering as quickly as she could, "Fine. I'm fine. Catherine, did you see Nick's latest purchase?"

While Nick showed Catherine the diamond Sara slipped quietly to the ladies room.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

She took some deep breaths. Closing her eyes Sara thought about what Dr. Case would say. What questions would she would ask later when Sara told her this?

Tears stung at her eyes but she blinked them away. It was stupid to cry over this. He was a guy that she liked. He had a history before he met her. Someone from his past was here visiting. These were the only facts she had. She reminded herself not to create stories that reflected any meaning that wasn't evidentiary.

In remarkably short time she was calm again and ready to work. When she reentered the evidence room Grissom was holding the small black jewelry box in his fingers, congratulating Nick. Her resolve lapsed momentarily as her heart contracted, but she pressed on.

When the supervisor suggested everyone get back to their tasks Nick stopped in the door way and caught Sara's eye, "Call me if you want." He held his fingers to his ear and mouth like a phone.

She smiled in response and returned to her scope.

Casual, "Everything okay with your friend?"

"Her sister's at Desert Springs, it's been a rough few days. Those fibers a match?"

"Probably. I'm sorry about your friend's sister. She gonna be alright?"

"I think so." His tone was light.

Grissom reached for a cover slip for the slide he was creating, Sara fed it into his hand without looking up from her work. She adjusted her weight from her left foot to her right; he leaned on his right arm on the bench beside her. She removed the specimen from the stage; he slid the next one into place. The ballet of forensics continued, not appreciated by all, but when mastered a thing of beauty.

XXX

"So today I found out that Grissom was engaged before." Sara dropped to the worn spot on the sofa and wondered if it was beginning to mold to her own specific shape.

"It stands to reason, a man of his age. Did you find out why they weren't married?" Dr. Case had to be on her game with Sara. Some of her patients would be in the room for five minutes before they settled into a seat, another twenty before they warmed up enough to talk about anything more than the weather. Sara walked in ready to roll.

"She moved home to take care of a sick sister or something. Only now she and her sick sister are in Vegas. That's the woman from the other day, borrowing his car."

Adjusting her blouse around her bulky middle Dr. Case waited for Sara to continue. When the younger woman was silent much longer than usual she probed. "When you found out, what did you do?"

"I left the room, fought back some tears…" Here Sara looked at Dr. Case and smiled, "thought of what you would say, and pulled it together. That's it really."

"What were the tears for?"

Sara fought against the painful lump forming in her throat. "It was my last secret shred of self preservation, that his rejection wasn't about me, but that he was incapable of…" she waved away the rest of the sentence and turned on the sofa, resting her face against the cloth.

"Perhaps it was because of her rejection that he became resistant to relationships."

"Well now she's back to fix all that I guess so hooray for him."

"Maybe, but whether he's incapable, or just not interested in having that type of relationship with you, for whatever reason Sara, that doesn't make you any less worthy of a woman. That's the thing we're working for here, that's what's going to save your life. The shred of self preservation should come from an understanding that whether he is ready to marry the next girl he meets or incapable of feeling close to another person ever again, none of those things are about you."

"That's what I told myself. Intellectually I believe it, it's just hard to internalize."

"No, it's easy. What's hard is ending the addiction to being broken. "

"I'm trying. I catch myself, which is new. I'm more aware. I feel like I'm making progress, but the surprising thing is that it's easier to think in a new way when something goes…I don't want to say wrong, but when something happens that would have made me unhappy before. When something I would have found a way to make myself wrong over happens, I'm learning to step back and say, that's his stuff, not mine. It's when he says something that could be construed as flirtatious that it's so tempting to slip back into my old ways."

"To cling to feeling good about yourself because he acknowledged something positive in you?"

"Yes."

"Feeling good about positive feedback is human Sara, I'm not asking you to ignore it. I'm saying that you shouldn't sail on the heights of joy when he smiles at you and plunge to the depths of despair when he doesn't."

"I guess I'm catching myself there too. Yesterday not long after our shift ended we got a call that a db that might be connected to our case had shown up at this motel. We both went out there, worked the room pretty much most of the morning and then, right before I was about to drive away he tells me that he doesn't see me as broken, but he misses my smile. I admit, I got that feeling, that elation, right away, but I stepped back from it. Every time my mind went to play it back for me to embellish and build a fantasy on I told myself that he meant exactly what he meant and that was all."

"That he cares about your happiness?"

"I think that's what he meant, don't you? He said that's why he insisted on my therapy. I mentioned the other day that it was working, I think, but that I wasn't fixed or anything."

"Is that what you think will happen, that I'll fix you?"

"No, but I will, maybe, with your guidance."

The doctor shook her head, "You're still claiming to be broken then."

Sara chewed her lip for a moment, "Okay, not fixed, how about fine tuned."

The doctor smiled, "I think that's something we can do."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The apartment was quiet no lights were left on. Grissom kicked his shoes into their usual space by the door and rubbed his hands over his face. The lack of sleep was catching up to him; every creek of his bones reminded him of the years he could stay up for days without missing a beat.

Entering his room with caution he checked to be certain Selina wasn't sleeping in his bed. Satisfied that he was alone he stripped off his shirt and padded to the bathroom. He started the shower to warm the water, relieved himself of the countless coffees that had gotten him this far and shed the remainder of his clothing.

Anticipating the relief of the hot spray on his aching muscles Grissom yelped loudly when he instead hit his cranium on something square and hard hanging from the showerhead.

A waterproof radio was his only suspect. While he was a man who loved music, who indeed had a living space filled with complex and sophisticated equipment to maximize the enjoyment of sound, he had not once in his lifetime considered it necessary to a decent shower. This sanctuary of silence, save for the soothing sound of falling water wanted for no music he could think of. Curiosity bested him though, and he switched the machine on.

Country music.

Three bars of something twangy that he could not have named if his life depended on it escaped from the speaker before he shut the thing off.

It took a moment to regroup but soon he was relaxing into the steam and strong stream of water pounding at him (once he readjusted the nozzle away from the wide rain like spray he never used). Eyes closed he reached, closed his hand around his shampoo and poured a small dollop into his palm; the scent reached his brain just as the cream hit his head. Raspberries. Wiping the suds from his face with his forearm he looked for the bottle.

Raspberry cream body wash sat crammed in next to raspberry-lime body scrub, black raspberry smoothing shampoo, black raspberry deep conditioner for frizzy hair and a can of apparently soothing mint shaving cream not meant for his face. He rinsed the fruity foam from his head and searched for his sensible, scent free shower accessories.

Wrapped in the robe that he found, not on its peg behind the bathroom door but folded over a chair in his room, he went to the kitchen hunting for a snack before falling into bed.

The sesame crackers were gone. No, untrue. They were simply moved to the other side of the cabinet. He counted to ten and batted away the annoyance of nothing being where it belonged. It worked, for a moment.

Giving up on the kitchen he fell into bed. In the fuzzy place between sleeping and waking he found himself crawling on the floor of his office, searching for something. He heard a familiar laugh and looked up to see Sara, smiling down at him, radiating joy and self-assurance. His fingers found the small black box he had dropped from quivering hands and he stood, holding it out to her. She was speaking, her hand over her chest, smiling and saying words he couldn't hear over the ringing of the phone.

The phone. He rolled out of bed and grabbed his cell phone from the pocket of his pants on the floor. He never left his pants on the floor.

"Grissom."

"You're home! I waited for you but it was getting so late I couldn't wait any more. They're thinking about letting Kerry out tomorrow but aren't sure yet. Can we have lunch and talk?"

"What time is it?" he grumbled.

"10:15, can we meet at noon?"

"I just got in, I've got to get some sleep. How about I see you at 4?"

Selina was obviously disappointed but agreed.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

When Selina got to the apartment Grissom was awake and dressed. She had been excited to spend a little time with him, but the space around him was filled with vibrations that told her not to stand too close.

He tried, hugging her, his body more rigid than he had intended. Opening the cartons of Chinese she had told him she was bringing "home" and he used chopsticks to transfer the food inside to black china plates. Selina reached across him to help but knocked over his iced tea instead. Clean up resulted in a debate over the use of paper towels (his choice, no bacteria living inside) or a sponge (her choice, more ecologically friendly). There were no sponges in the kitchen so Grissom emerged victorious.

While they ate she talked through her nerves, telling him more details than he needed about her sister's condition and what the doctors thought would be best. She skirted the issue of bringing her home until she had two glasses of wine in her.

Selina took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "They're releasing her tomorrow. The thing is, I don't know where to go with her."

There it was. The most frightening decision of her life was in his hands. He'd been alternately distant and welcoming since her arrival but now the offer was on the table. All he had to do was ask her to stay in Vegas. He'd been asking for at least a decade, but somehow things felt different now.

"If you both want to stay here for a few days I can go…"He began, knowing it wasn't what she was waiting to hear. He was surprised himself. If you had told him a week ago that he would have the opportunity to have her back in his life he'd have jumped at it.

"We'll get a hotel, for a few days anyway."

They looked at each other for a long moment.

XXX

A few miles away a beautiful woman shared a table with coworkers she'd met once or twice. She nearly choked on her vegetable curry laughing at wordplay only a science geek would understand. Comfortable in both her skin and peer group Sara was the vibrant center of her own universe. There was no box of gold starred papers under he bed, but this moment got filed away just the same. A memory she could call up later of being enough, alone, in a group, and not lonely.

The fun was short-lived. Eight beepers went off in unison around the table, only one person bothering to pick up their phone and read the text message on the screen aloud to the others:

ALL HANDS. ALL SHIFTS. REPORT TO CONFERENCE ROOM C.

XXX

His eyes left hers to follow the sound. His cell phone was on the bookshelf by the window.

"Don't you ever shut that thing off?" Selina groaned.

"Lina, my work is important to me." He left the table to retrieve the phone.

"Your LIFE should be important to you, Gil."

"Most days it's hard to tell the difference. I have to go. I'll call you later and we can discuss this further."

He was out the door before she had a chance to tell him not to bother.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Nick let out a low whistle "Looks like Sara got pulled off a date." "No doubt, looking good girl." Warrick agreed before taking the chair next to Nick. The conference room was filled almost to capacity but being at lunch with the day crew meant Sara was the first from her shift to arrive, and thus was able to grab a few seats for the others.

"I don't live in my work clothes you know, I am a GIRL occasionally."

"Thank God for that, and you make a good one. Girl I mean. You look hot." Greg never seemed to just sit. Instead he took the chair on the opposite side of Sara the way he always did, by releasing his muscles from their work of holding him upright. It was more the crumbling earthward of a myriad jumble of parts than sitting. His compliment earned him a blown kiss and a wink.

Catherine and Grissom entered together and stood next to the row of folding chairs containing the rest of their shift. Warrick asked if either of them knew what the meeting was about, Catherine said she didn't. Grissom didn't answer, but Warrick understood when he traced his supervisor's gaze to Sara's knee peeking out from under the hem of her soft pink skirt.

The room was a buzz of theories about the reason for the call. Some of the newer people assumed it was a crime of epic proportions. Those with more experience doubted this, lab staff wouldn't be called into a briefing, and only CSI's would need the details. The seniors in the room, in experience more than age, made no attempt to hypothesize. They would know when they were told and anything beyond that was a waste of brain space.

Eckley took the podium and held up his hand for silence. "Thank you all for your prompt response. I am sorry to have to call you here when many of you are off the clock, but I believed this would be the most effective method of sharing the news." He broke here for a moment, took a breath. "As many of you know Chief Brigham, Assistant Lab Director Stanley and a number of the lab staff and CSI's are away at a conference this week in San Diego. It has been reported to us at this time that the shuttle bus they were traveling in from the hotel to the convention center has been in a very serious accident. I am sorry to tell you of the tragic death of Assistant Director Stanley." Shock registered on every face. Nick took Sara's hand in his, as much to comfort himself as to lend her support. Greg stood and gave Catherine his chair when the color drained from her face.

"I have no specific word as to the severity of injury to the remainder of our people, but will certainly update everyone as more information becomes available to me. This will be in the media within the hour and I wanted all of you to hear it from me. A.D. Stanley's family has been informed and his wife Charlene will be flying out to San Diego this afternoon. Thank you, again for coming in. When I have more information it will be dispensed via text message to your phones."

No one moved. A few people cried, many shared concerns for friends who were at the convention and most likely on the shuttle but not one person left the room.

Warrick went crouch beside Catherine and put his arm around her shoulder. "Isn't this the conference you were supposed to be at?"

Shell shocked she nodded her head, silently thanking God for Lindsey's last minute grounding that kept her home to play Warden.

News trickled in and was shared from the podium of other members of the crime fighting family that were treated and released, or held for further observation. Eventually Eckley had to ask that members of the current shift resume their regular work, everyone else was welcome to stay in the conference room for updates.

A number of the people Sara had been lunching with stopped by to share stories of the colleagues that were away before heading back to work the remainder of their day in a haze. When she finally looked for him, Grissom was not among any of the room's small clusters of coworkers and friends clinging to one another, both physically and emotionally.

"You okay?" Greg asked her. He looked unsure where to stand, or what to say. When you had something to celebrate, or tension to break, Greg was good to have around, but when the occasion became solemn he seemed like a fish out of water. His very visage seemed to carry an element of exuberance, difficult to rearrange into anything more subdued than concern.

"Yeah, I wasn't very close to anyone that's there. Still, it's sad. What about you, did you know any of the lab guys that went?"

"A couple. They've been to parties at my place now and then. It feels weird not being able to go to the scene." Greg appeared almost embarrassed at his eagerness to be at the site of the crash, but it only confirmed to Sara that he was a CSI at heart.

"Helpless. I know. All we can do is wait I guess. You seen Grissom?"

"He left a few minutes ago. Don't know where he went."

Following her suspicions she found him, at his desk, door closed but unlocked, lights off. She knocked softly then entered without waiting to be asked. Silently Sara took the seat across from him and closed her eyes. Stillness enveloped and comforted them until Grissom's voice boomed out, seeming louder in the darkness. "You can never know, Sara." His voice was tight with emotion he wasn't willing to allow past his throat.

She swallowed for him, trying to will whatever was stopping him from continuing away so that his words would flow.

His heart wrangled with his brain for control of what would be said next. His mind won, as always.

"Charlene told me once that I was lucky to be unmarried. That some woman out there was lucky to have escaped me because she wouldn't have to lie awake at night wondering if I'd get myself, or both of us, killed with my job."

He let that sit between them, trying not to know that Sara had indeed spent more than one night awake at his expense. Finally he added, "She couldn't know that she'd lose him on a bus."

Sara stood to leave, stopping at his door, "Bet tonight she'll wish she was lying awake worrying. Seems like she spent so much time worrying about how she'd lose him she never realized how lucky she was to have someone to lose."

The knot in his stomach tightened at Sara closed the door from the other side.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

He had worked through his day off. Grissom never stopped to question his motive, be it avoiding what waited for him at home, or remaining in constant contact with his crew. The more the how the less the why, and right now it was all about how they were going to manage the next few days. Two CSI's from day shift were killed, the swing shift fingerprint analyst seriously wounded.

The thought of Selina and Kerry being there never entered his mind as he came home, stripped naked and crawled between familiar sheets.

Too tired to dream Gil slept for 7 hours and woke to the feeling of something hard digging the underside of his right arm. Groggily he felt to identify the object, a book, the corner of which had left quite an impression on him.

A note had been relocated to somewhere in his crumpled linens from it's original placement on the book.

Gil,

Kerry and I will be going home tomorrow. I was sorry to hear of your department's loss on the news. Please find some time to fix yourself a drink and read this, cover to cover. It would mean the world to me.

Selina

The clock at his bedside informed him of a full 14 hours before he had to be back at work, and even then it would be overtime. After pulling on a pair of worn jeans and a soft blue t-shirt he hefted the volume onto his arm and brought it to the living room.

After making himself a sandwich and the drink she had suggested he settled onto the sofa. His speakers across the room rang out with Elmore James bluesy rhythms and when "It Hurts Me Too" finished Grissom hit repeat on the remote.

The book was a scrapbook of sorts. On the first page inside Selina's handwriting had titled it "My Heart's Response". Turning the page he was greeted by his own penmanship, the very first letter he had written to Selina. He had tucked it into her purse as she'd hugged him in the airport, a letter full of hope for their future together.

The next page contained a letter Selina had never sent; telling him of how frightened she was that this might be the end of her dreams for the future. Her heartbreak at watching him sleep beside her for the very last time, the way she did her best to memorize the way his hand felt around hers, all of it was there.

Years of letters he had sent, and the responses she had not were carefully preserved like a shrine to their relationship. He went to his closet and removed the cardboard box in which he had stored most of the letters she'd written him. Carefully he compared what he had received to the response she hadn't been able to put in the mail. He ached to know that even in the beginning she hadn't felt able to fully disclose to him her pain or the flights of imaginary romantic interludes she'd wished they could share.

For four hours he read and reread every line, running his fingers over her precise script. He made a few more drinks and didn't attempt to stop the flow of tears that would no longer bend to his willful suppression.

On the final page of the book was a letter, dated one day earlier.

Darling Gil,

I wonder if this reading has impacted you the way it has me. The real story is, as usual, between the lines. When you strip away the fantasy, subtract the 'might have been's a clear picture of the truth remains.

These letters in total reveal to me a woman who is better with words than emotional risk, a woman who used her commitment to her family as an excuse to run out on a commitment to her own happiness.

I believe that if I hadn't run at the first opportunity, things would have been different. Not easy. Nothing worth cherishing is ever easy, but we might have grown together instead of apart.

What things about yourself have you learned here Gil?

I'm sorry that we've both invested so much time in something that was, in the end, a substitute for living. I do love you. I know I always will.

One last piece of advice, don't let her grow away from you. You have an opportunity to live, don't hide behind work the way I hid behind Kerry. Both you, and Sara, deserve more.

Always,

Lina


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

He went back through the letters and counted.

In the past year he mentioned Sara no less than 38 times in roughly 15 letters. He would have denied it if Selina had told him he had said it more than once.

Grissom rubbed his forehead in frustration and confusion. Barefoot he padded to the kitchen, picked up the bottles of gin and tonic water and carried them back to the sofa. His eyes ached from unleashed tears, his head was going to damn well ache with alcohol soon.

XXX

Before she entered the house the scent of warm cookies enveloped Sara, wafting out of the window and telling her lies about the life inside. She knocked and entered the screen door before an answer was made. "Hey Mom, it's me." Sara raised her voice to be heard over the clanging of pans in the kitchen.

When she was small her mother had been shapely, now, in her mid fifties she was round, her face nothing like the one Sara remembered from before. It was a year after her mother was released from the mental hospital before they were allowed to live together again. Painfully thin with hollow haunted eyes, Sara was afraid to look directly at the woman. They never spoke about her father, or what happened. Neither of them brought up the hospital or how fearful Sara was on the days that she went to visit. She never asked if maybe her father had made her crazy too.

The night before Valentine's Day on that first year back together, Sara's mom asked her if the class was planning a party the next day. They were, but Sara wanted no paper cards to pass out. Her mother tried to convince her but Sara stood her ground, knowing that if her mother forced her she would only throw them away in the trash bin outside the playground. As a compromise they settled on baking cupcakes for the class and frosting them in red and pink. The act of cooking, following a recipe, knowing exactly how much of what belonged where and what to do with it to get the result desired appealed to both women.

It wasn't long before they became accomplished dessert chefs. In the kitchen they would talk and laugh and Sara could bring smiles to the faces of people that she normally would have no interaction with by sharing the sweetness they could create with sugar, flour, eggs and milk.

Sara's mother ate much of what she baked, rarely going out of the house and having only her own sister and young daughter to share the in fruits of her labor. She enveloped herself in cookies, cupcakes, pies and turnovers. Layer upon layer of sugary confection served to hide the dark void left behind from the unspeakable trauma.

In the years since Sara left for college her Aunt Alice convinced her mother to turn her hobby into a business. Her mother did all of the baking and Alice sold the snacks to local schools, businesses and church groups. Now there was almost never a time that Sara came home to visit her mother that the kitchen wasn't filled with the aroma of fresh baked goods.

"Try this." Her mother forked a bite from a loaf on the sideboard into Sara's mouth before she could object. "Wow, that's new, I like it. What is it, pumpkin and…and…what?"

"Zucchini. Alice said I was crazy but it gives a nutty flavor doesn't it?"

Sara cut another piece and took the glass of milk her mother was offering. "Seriously? Zucchini? This is amazing."

"I'll wrap a loaf for you to take home to your fella."

"There is no fella mom, I've told you a dozen times." She rolled her eyes.

"I heard about that bus accident. Terrible. You should settle down and get married, I worry about your safety." It boggled Sara that her mother was so far removed from their past that she could consider getting married a safe place.

"Yeah, worked out great for you." Sara stunned herself by saying the words. In all these years they had never referenced her father in even the most abstract way. She held her breath, waiting for her mother's reaction.

Silence. Her mother stood frozen until the oven timer buzzed and she bustled back to her activity as though woken from a coma. She slid cookies from their sheet to a cooling rack as Sara watched, and waited for a response.

"These aren't anything new, same old Oatmeal I've been making for a hundred years, but you can help yourself. I think they're better when they're warm but it's impossible to sell them that way."

"Mom." Sara took the spatula from her mother's hand and held her wrist. "I want to talk about dad."


	27. Chapter 27

(A/N: I apologize for the delay. Writers block. I would like to thank Ph.Delicious for her private notes and review which proved endlessly valuable and Mezzaluna who prompted an idea to dig me out of a hole.)

Chapter 27

She ran her fingers through her hair, an uncharacteristic sign of her frustration.

"Dr. Case can see you now Sara." Deb, the kindly older woman who served as a receptionist was relieved to have the pacing girl out of the waiting room.

The doctor was at her desk and prompted Sara to have a seat without looking up. The girl's energy was palpable, her desire to get on with her explosion clear, but Dr. Case was an immovable force. She deliberately spent a few extra moments on her notes from the last patient.

When she finally stood she raised her eyebrows at Sara, "An emergency appointment? Dare I ask what brought this on?"

"My mother is impossible. She lives in a fantasy world."

"Everyone lives in their own version of reality Sara. When did you speak to your mother?"

"I went to see her yesterday, after my shift."

"With an agenda?"

"I don't know. That's not the point. I went and I tried to get her to talk about my dad, about how things got as bad as they did, but she just…"

Dr. Case cut her off, "I'd like to hear how you came to visit your mother yesterday Sara. Please. From the beginning."

Normally allowed to follow her own tangent, given her head to plow through whatever she most wanted to say, this redirect completely derailed her.

"I don't know. We had finished an especially long shift and I"

"Why was it long?"

Tucking her legs under her Sara dipped her chin, "There was a bus accident in California involving people from CSI that were at a seminar there."

"So you worked to cover the shift of the people in California?"

"Sort of. The people at the seminar were covered already, but some of them were seriously hurt, a few were killed. Some of our people at home wanted to go to San Diego, lend support, others were too distraught to work. We covered for them."

"You found it less upsetting to stay at work?"

"I found it necessary. The bad guys don't stop in Vegas just because we've taken a hit."

"Did your entire shift work overtime?"

"Mostly. Catherine left to be with Lindsey for awhile, the rest of us worked over. Grissom and Nick were still there when I left."

"Why did you leave while the others continued?"

"Grissom is supervisor, he was plugging all the holes he could. Nick was waiting on some prints and then heading out. Why?"

"It just seems unlike you. What did you do when you left work?"

"Got in my car and drove. I intended to go home and sleep, but my car seemed to just get on the highway. I didn't think it through at all, just ended up at my mom's."

"Was she surprised to see you?"

"She didn't say. I visit her fairly often, it's only a little over two hours from here."

"When you got to the house, did you ask yourself what you were doing there?"

"No. I just went in, she was baking, like she always is, since I was a kid."

"She baked when you were small?"

"When she came home from the hospital and we lived together."

Dr. Case tipped her head. "Sara? When did that happen? When did you live with your mom again?"

"I don't know, when she came home. We used to bake together all the time until I went to college."

The doctor looked down, composing her thoughts. Finally she decided to let whatever she had been thinking pass. "Tell me what prompted you to ask your mother about your father."

"She told me I should get married, that I should be safe, settle down and get married. I couldn't believe she was so out of touch. Marriage was anything but safe for her."

"Is this the first time she's talked about you getting married?"

Sara frowned. "No, she mentions it here and there. Asks when I'm going to give her grandbabies."

"Have you asked about your father when she's brought up your future?"

"No. We never talk about him."

"But this time you wanted to. Why?"

"I'm ready."

"Ready to?"

"See how all of it twisted me, face it, move on from it."

"How does making your mother revisit the past show you your future?"

"I don't know. I think I just wanted her to acknowledge that he existed. I was ready to talk about what it's done to us, to start healing with her."

"Did you take a moment to gauge her readiness?"

"No." Sara's barely audible response turned her inward. "I thought I was making so much progress."

"You are, in some respects, but the first thing you have to realize is that your healing is yours. It happens in your own time, and you must respect that you can't put anyone else's healing on your timeline. For that matter, you can't expect your mother's healing to look like yours. Perhaps it is enough for her to be able to function in the world without exploring all of her past."

"I don't get that. How can she move forward from it if she doesn't deal with it?"

"Maybe she has dealt with it, that doesn't mean she has to relive it every day. She may have released her guilt and pushed forward. Her path has nothing to do with yours Sara."

"It's hard. I don't know how to have a relationship with her if I'm going to be real about my dad and what happened and she's going to pretend nothing happened. She's rewriting history."

"So are you."

Anger flashed across Sara's face, "You think I'm lying?"

"How old were you when your mother killed your father Sara?"

"I don't remember."

"Yes, you do."

"Fourteen maybe?"

"And yet when you tell the story you tell it as though you were much younger. To hear your story without the dates would suggest you were only around 8 when this happened. Being younger gives you absolution."

"I felt, I mean, I remember it as though I were…"

"In your mind you've made yourself younger, because a girl of 14 should have been able to do something to stop what was happening right?"

"I couldn't have. There was nothing I could do." Sara was crying now, the memories of that night coming back again, this time differently. This time she felt herself, not a small voiceless child but an insolent and angry teen, screaming at her father, praying that her mother would stand up to him until finally she did.

The teen Sara had felt satisfaction at watching her mother silence her father.

The crying came from the deepest pit of her stomach. The guilt of knowing she had wanted what had happened, that she was pleased that her mother had risen up against her father tore away at her and escaped through screams that made her throat ache.

This time, for the first time, Dr. Case sat next to her on the couch. She pulled Sara onto her and the girl collapsed into her lap, allowing all of her responsibility for her father's death and her mother's imprisonment spew forth.

When her weeping slowed to haggard gulps for air the doctor stroked her hair, keeping her safe, allowing her to be the child for a few moments longer.

"Sara? How old were you when your mother was released from the hospital?"

"Eighteen? Maybe nineteen why?" Hiccups, gasping breaths, tear stained face.

"Did you bake with your mother when you were young?"

"Never."

"You told me that you did. You said that when you were a young girl, when she came home the two of you baked together."

Sara sat upright. "I remember it. I remember Valentines Day and not wanting those paper cards because they were for kids, and my aunt saying that we'd make…it was my Aunt Alice."

Shock. "I've always believed it was my mother, but it was my Aunt Alice that I baked with. When mom got out I was already away at college. She'd bake with my aunt, I'd sometimes help when I came home on vacations but, never as a child. Not with my mother."

"So you see, reality is what your mind will allow it to be. Why is it so important for your mother to talk about your father?"

Looking as though she had been beaten, her eyes swollen and red, her lips chewed and bruised Sara answered, "I want to know if she wanted him dead as much as I did."

"So that you wouldn't be at fault?" Dr. Case smiled as Sara's eyes showed the connections she was making. All of her life she had tried to run from being responsible for her emotions in an effort to absolve herself of wishing for her fathers death.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Kendra shoveled an enormous lettuce leaf into her mouth and wiped the dressing from her chin with the back of her hand. "I know you miss your guys, but it's been nice having you on days for awhile."

Sara took her lunch from the microwave, "Yeah, it's hard getting used to functioning in daylight, I think Vlad the Impaler might be a long lost relative, but this hasn't been too bad."

"You thinking about coming over to the light side permanently?"

Sara shrugged. "It might be time. I've been in the dark too long."

"I wish you would. I know you're close to the swing shift but I like having you around."

"I've been thinking about it. Change is my middle name lately." She stopped eating and smiled at her friend, "I kind of like _being_ around."

XXX

"Acting Assistant? I don't think so." Grissom continued his brisk pace down the hall.

Sheriff Atwater stood still, "Gil." The sheriff looked exhausted. Grissom stopped and turned to face him. "Can we talk in private without my chasing you?"

The conference room was handy, and empty. "There isn't much to talk about."

"I know you and Conrad don't see eye to eye. I know you disagreed with his elevation to Lab Director last month but I need you to help me out here."

"I've been helping out. I've been here nearly round the clock, sheriff, but being Conrad's assistant is out of the question."

"Gil, have a seat. I've watched you over the past year, and I know how you feel about administrative duties, but I think you make an excellent balance to Conrad's style. I've been considering this move for you for some time."

"I'm a scientist. I have no interest in politics and press."

"Or time sheets or team evaluations. I get it. That's what makes you the perfect counterpoint to Ecklie."

Grissom rubbed his forehead, wincing at the pain from a small red mark, the remnant of a drunken stumble two nights ago. It seemed like weeks ago. He hadn't seen Sara more than a half hour since then. He'd sent her and Catherine to help cover the day shift, giving him a break from the estrogen carrying sex for a few weeks. He was still processing the things Selina had left him with, gleaning for all of the lessons his letters had hidden in them.

"Two weeks."

"Sorry?"

"I'll be acting A.D. for two weeks while you figure something more permanent. After that I'm going back to swing."

XXX

In his office Grissom stared at his computer screen. His email inbox was overflowing and apparently sending messages back to their originators. He heard a weary sigh and realized it came from him.

He deleted a few messages without opening them. His penis size hadn't received any complaints thank you very much. Granted there weren't many people who had had the opportunity to judge, but he thought he'd pass on the offers to enlarge it just the same.

He glanced up at his door, sensing a shadow there. Nothing.

Subject: LOOKING FOR GOOD TIME FRIEND

Delete.

Subject: New regulations regarding the lab refrigerators. (this means you gil)

Delete.

Again, the feeling that someone was hovering in his door frame. Again there was no one.

Subject: fw:Redneck video games

Delete.

He walked to the door and looked down the hall. Warrick was passing with his face in a folder. "You lost Gris?"

"Did you see anyone hanging around here?"

"Naw. You're probably just missing Sara, isn't this her spot?" Warrick snarked with a smile and kept moving.

The new acting Assistant Director shook his head and returned to his email.

The clearance of the few had made way for more.

NEW MAIL

From: S.Sidle

Subject: Schedule change

He clicked on Sara's email, and checked the timestamp. She had sent it only moments ago from her home account.

Hey Gris-

Give me a call tonight if you get a second.

Sara

Telepathically hovering at his door? Somehow the vaguely worded request made him uneasy. He picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, It's Grissom."

She wondered at the introduction. Did he honestly believe she wouldn't recognize his voice?

"That was fast. Cleaning out your inbox?"

His eyes smiled. "Getting ready for my new duties."

"New duties?"

"Assistant lab director."

"WHAT? Ecklie's assistant? This has to be some kind of a joke."

Her response, predictable and supportive, gratified him. The cadence of her voice reminded him how much he missed her. In his mind he pictured her, draped across the chair in his office, smiling and glowing.

"It's temporary. I'm doing the sheriff a favor. What can I do for you?" He drew his top lip into his mouth and bit it softly, chastising himself automatically for making a quick list in his head of what he wished he could do for her.

"I…I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I'm working on changing my life, y'know? Clearing out the demons? Anyway, day shift, it feels like a fresh start and I was wondering how you would feel about letting me stay with them."

"Permanently?"

"Maybe. Yeah."

He was silent. She hadn't wanted to do this on the phone but knew she didn't want to see his face when she told him she wanted to leave his shift.

"Gris?"

"Did I do something? Or not do something? I realize that things have been disjointed lately…" his voice trailed off.

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her bed, "It isn't about you. I know I've been reactionary in the past but this isn't a punishment. I've been doing good work with my psychologist, I'll never be able to thank you enough for sending me to her, but I think for a little while I need to live in the light. Can you understand that?" her voice was soft, not chiding.

"I'm happy for you Sara. I've noticed the change. If this is what you honestly want I'll sign the paperwork tonight."

There was something sad in his voice when he told her he was happy. He sounded like a child being left behind as his siblings were taken on a vacation to Disney World.

"I want you to know, I'm not running from (she paused searching for the word to say what she meant without laying it out too plainly) THIS. Its just time for me to try new things."

His fingers caressed the desk in front of him. 'This' The word had become dense with meaning since that evening in his door frame. He responded the only way he could at the moment. "Thank you. Don't worry, I'll take care of this."

He hung up the phone leaving her to wonder exactly which "this" he was referring to.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"You moved Sara to day shift? Are you kidding me? I've been asking for that move for how long and you just hand it to her? Gil?" Catherine had a full head of steam but Grissom barely acknowledged her presence. He was literally and figuratively knee deep in evidence.

"I can't believe you're being this obvious with your favorites. What is it? Is it so I can keep doing your paperwork? Tell me Gil."

"You never asked to be moved to day shift Catherine. You asked to supervise day shift, and that's not my call. I made the recommendation, that's all I can do."

It was almost laughable how you could see the wheels turning in her mind. "But now that you're the assistant lab director you could promote me."

"Acting. Acting assistant director. Catherine, you seem to be getting pretty chummy with Ecklie lately, take this up with him."

"I don't understand what they were thinking making you acting A.S. anyway. And who's supposed to do your job while you're doing that? Me?"

Grissom shook his head and squinted. Catherine could ignore logic with the best of them. If what you had to say didn't fit with her preferred line of thinking she just reframed the topic. It was surprising to him that she was able to set that aside when she was working a case. Well, usually able to set that aside. Occasionally able.

"You're still on days for the time being, so that seems unlikely. Would you mind stepping out of my light?" he made a shoo-ing motion.

Exasperated she threw up her hands and huffed out of the room, leaving Grissom to his work. His quiet time was short lived.

"Hey man, did you really let Sara go?" Nick bent to get a better look at the plexiglass box filled with gel Grissom was standing in.

"I agreed to her request to move to days. Yes." His tone was firm. This was not a topic on which he intended to elaborate.

"I don't get it. Why'd she want to go?"

In his mind Grissom heard this as 'What did you do now?' he fixed Nick with an icy glare, "You'd have to ask her. Hand me that cement mix would you?"

Nick had complied and left, his bosses non-verbal cues being sufficient to advise him that the answers weren't going to be found with him and the questions were falling on irritated ears.

As it so often did, the deeper Grissom got into the physical aspect of lab work, the further his mind wandered. He thought about his recent time with Selina and how they always seemed to be a step off from one another. He zigged when she zagged, never lining up. In the letters from the past year he had begun to talk about symmetry. He would discuss paintings he'd seen, symphonies he had attended, or books read and without realizing it had always mentioned the equilibrium where he had expected things to be skewed.

Looking for Sara as Sara was reaching out to him electronically.

The thought zipped by him like a fly too quick to catch. In it's wake was a vague imprint of missing something, a phantom appendage. Working in the lab with Sara was always easy. Thinking about Sara, feeling about Sara, those things were impassioned and thorny but moving beside her with a common purpose always brought cherished balance.

Clearing a way for the cement he slipped his hand into the gel, the warm closure of the stuff at his fingers once again brought Sara to the forefront of his mind. He considered the times he had held her hand in his. She had strong, talented fingers but when they curled against his own they were small and tender. He had never considered the masculinity of his own hand until he looked at it in propinquity with the femininity of Sara's.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Two weeks turned to six in the blink of an eye. Catherine was back on nights, but Grissom was still acting as if he were assisting Ecklie.

Ecklie was still acting like an ass.

The occasional court appearance or admin meeting brought Gil to the lab during day shift and when it did he always found himself checking each room as he passed it, hoping for a glimpse of the girl he gave away.

Reward came only twice. The first time she was on her way out to a scene with her new supervisor and had no time for more than a 'hello, hello, goodbye, goodbye' in the hall.

The second time he caught site of her she was in the interrogation room with a teenaged girl and her court appointed guardian. Grissom stood outside the window and watched Sara as she went from being curious to flat out fiercely accusatory. Somewhere inside him something hummed along with her, shared her frequency. He delighted in her frenzy and longed to catch her eye so she would know he was there, that she wasn't alone in it, but alas, the glass would only allow a one sided communion.

He had expected her to find reasons to work overtime. When he'd put his name on the form to release her to day shift he had felt certain that she'd still be there, hovering nearby from time to time.

Grissom felt relief and abandonment when he realized she had meant what she said about trying new things.

Removing the application for Assistant Director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab from his drawer he considered what it would mean to make this new position permanent. Change had been good for Sara, spreading her wings and leaving her cocoon agreed with her, perhaps it would do the same for him.

Knowing he would be giving the position if he applied he filled all the spaces in carefully, provided a signature on the bottom along with the date and sealed his opportunity in an envelope addressed to the sheriff.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The Holy Cross Baptist Church was not air conditioned, but the lights had been kept low and the doors closed against the humidity. It was brutal to be wearing a full suit on such a scorching day and Grissom was grateful for the small drop in temperature as he entered.

Standing in the back he allowed his eyes to adjust from the glare outside and caught site of the others seated in a pew only a few rows back from the pulpit. His lips twitched when he noticed Sara sandwiched between Greg and Warrick. Even the back of her head was a welcome sight these days.

Resisting the urge to genuflect (old habits and all that) he slid in next to Catherine, who looked none too pleased about losing her aisle seat.

Nick grinned at his supervisor. He looked ready to bust with nerves and happiness. There was a hot pink Gerbera pinned to the lapel of his black tux. His brother's tux sported an orange flower of the same variety.

As the wedding march played everyone stood and turned to face the back of the church. Most seated on the left side of the aisle turned to the right. Grissom turned to his left and caught Sara's smile and small fingered wave in his direction before finishing his rotation and focusing on Nick's bride.

Luna's dress was simple and elegant. The ceremony itself was traditional. The family of the groom was in full attendance, looking regal and distinguished. The family of the bride also turned out, looking as though they were ready for a party.

Sara thought about how the two families together seemed to fit perfectly to symbolize Nick's personality and hoped that this marriage was going to be the beginning of the party phase of a life that had seen too many days that required a stiff upper lip.

As the church emptied Catherine hooked her arm into Warrick's. "My sister borrowed my car, dropped me off here, think I could ride to the reception with you?"

"Sure, the more the merrier. Sara and Greg came with me, why not make it a foursome?"

Not what Catherine wanted to hear, but she reasoned it was still better than going alone.

Grissom did make the short drive to the reception at Wellington place on his own. He had considered inviting Sara to ride with him but couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse. The drive gave him time to consider how the freckles that crossed her nose and cheeks had flourished from her daytime fieldwork. He caught himself smiling at the thought as he pulled into the lot behind Warrick.

Happy for the cover provided by his sunglasses he watched as Sara's long legs emerged from Warrick's back seat. She looked light and lovely in an ice blue dress, her hair in loose curls framing her radiant face.

Murmuring to himself as he approached his little group, "Thus, then, was Beauty sent from heaven, The lovely mistress of Truth and Good In this dark world: for Truth and Good are one; And Beauty dwells in them, and they in her, With like participation."

Cat turned on her widest smile, "Thanks Grissom!" and lead the charge inside. He raised his eyebrows in Sara's direction and they shared a silent smile.

He held her chair as they sat in their assigned place, the invited lab staff had a table all their own, close to the family. Greg began immediately with the post mortem of the ceremony; Catherine regaled anyone who would listen with stories of her own wedding day. Grissom drank scotch and Sara drank wine.

"For the first time anywhere, Mr. And Mrs. Nick Stokes!"

Thankfully they had opted NOT to do a reception line but to go directly to the best man's toast. Nick's brother spoke emotionally about growing up with his best friend and wanting the newlyweds to be as happy as he was with his beautiful family.

Nick's dad made a short speech, Luna's mom stood and wished the couple many years of amazing sex and hearty laughter. When the call came for anyone else who might have something to say Grissom stood.

"I'm, uh, Gil Grissom, Nick's supervisor. Nick, you've always been someone I knew I could count on. In the past few years you've matured into a competent CSI and a man I'm honored to call my friend." Nick beamed, his eyes red. Grissom stuttered a moment but continued, "I'm so proud of you for being willing, after all of the things we've seen and been through, for being willing to have the hope that marriage symbolizes. The vulnerability of giving yourself to another person is a rare gift. I hope I can learn from your courage. I wish you all the luck in the world."

He barely noticed that he had rested his hand on Sara's naked shoulder as he spoke.

Sara noticed, in fact, she was finding it hard to concentrate on much of anything else.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Conversation over dinner began with chatter about the bride's dress, Nick's nerves, ribbing Warrick about their lost invitations to his wedding, but before too long, as it always did, the subject changed to work. Cold cases, new cases, discussions of which lab tech got results in the quickest times, those were the topics that served as the meat and potatoes for this makeshift family meal.

The plates cleared away, the bouquet thrown; the garter tossed (Greg nearly crushing Luna's little brother but coming away with the prize) dancing and drinking were all that remained of the festivities.

"So do you think your wife would mind you kicking up your heels with me?" Catherine propositioned Warrick.

"I don't know about kicking up my heels, but I'm sure we won't divorce over a dance, c'mon."

Greg was already off chasing the maid of honor (and catcher of the bouquet), this left Grissom and Sara at the table.

"Did you want to…I mean, it is a wedding." Grissom motioned to the dance floor.

"Are you going to step on my feet?" Sara stood.

"Probably, but only in retaliation for leaving me." He took her hand as they weaved through pulled out chairs and knots of young girls in grown up dresses.

Finding a place on the floor he pulled her into him and wound his arm around her waist. They danced in companionable silence for a few moments and then, "I've missed you."

He'd said it quietly, and the music was loud. If she was meant to hear it she would, and if not then he could always tell himself later that he had tried. A sideways smirk flashed across Sara's face before she leaned in closer and whispered, "Good."

His thumb stroked the small of her back, "I thought your move to dayshift wasn't punitive."

She leaned back into his arm and let her hair swing down her back, "It wasn't motivated by a desire to punish, no, but if it makes you realize you need me…" he spun her in a slow circle and returned her against him, more tightly than before "then so much the better."

The end of the sentence was in a low toned whisper, feathery light against his ear but sending electric shocks through his arms and torso. Possibly lower.

She lay her head on his shoulder now, which was too bad really. It meant she missed the sly smile on his face (flush with desire and scotch) and the twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Ah," he countered, his voice quiet but not whispering, "but I've always known I've needed you, why do you think I held you so far away?"

Her lips made their answer against his neck, softly and without reproach, "Because you're stupid."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

They swayed together through three slow songs but when the tempo increased Grissom and Sara stood apart and for a moment just looked at one another, as if only now realizing how close they had been.

"Do you want another drink?" he asked nervously.

"Better not. Why don't we go for a walk, it must be nice out now that the sun's gone down." She started for the door not looking back, confident that he would follow.

The evening was cooler than either had anticipated with a light wind that lifted Sara's hair away from her face in gentle wisps. Wordlessly Grissom removed his suit jacket and placed it around her shoulders as they walked.

"I never got a chance to ask, how did things go with your friend?" she pulled the jacket closer around her.

"My friend?"

"From out of town, you said her sister was in the hospital."

"Oh, right. Everything turned out for the best."

"That's good. Are they thinking of staying in Vegas?" She hoped he couldn't tell she was fishing. Subtly had never been her long suit.

"No, no. They're already back where they belong."

"It must have been good though, to have an old friend around for awhile."

"It was. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." She braced herself.

"Do you have a radio in your bathroom?"

She stopped walking and turned to face him, "You mean like, a scanner? I'm passionate about my work Gil, but I'm not demented."

He laughed and she ached for all the time that had passed since she last heard that sound from him.

"No, Rabbit, music, NPR, AM/FM…you know, radio."

"Oh, no. Why?"

"No reason."

They walked in silence for a few moments before she stopped again. It was a few paces before he realized he'd lost her and Gil turned back to find her puzzled face.

"Rabbit?"

"Goose."

"Oh. Silly."

He held his hand out to her to catch up. She slipped her arms through his jacket to stop it falling off and put her hand in his.

"I've missed you too."

His thumb caressed hers. "Good." He let that stand a moment then added, "How do you like day shift?"

"It's different. It's almost a different job. I like it though, I think it's been good for me. It's definitely improved my social life."

"You look like it agrees with you."

She glanced sideways at him, "Thank you."

"Are you happy, Sara?"

She squeezed his hand in hers and bumped him with her hip, "Right this moment? Very. Yes."

He swallowed hard, kept his eyes fixed on a sign for fried chicken in the distance and asked, "Do you think there might be room for me in that social life?"


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

She swung their hands between them, "Sure, why not?" Her answer was light and casual. "A bunch of us are going to a movie tomorrow after work."

He dropped her hand and turned her to him. Narrowing his eyes he made himself as plain as he could risk. "I'm not interested in socializing with…"

She interrupted. "I'm sure everyone would enjoy a little time with the Assistant Director of the lab."

Ah.

"Acting."

She leaned in close and felt the space between them electrify. "Let me know when the play is over."

XXX

When they returned to the wedding some folks were still dancing but Warrick looked ready to go. "You riding with me Sara?"

"If you don't mind dropping me home."

He didn't, much to Grissom's dismay.

He drove directly to the lab and made his way to his office, waving off questions about the wedding or what he was doing in on his night off. Gil Grissom was a man with a mission that he hoped it wasn't too late to accomplish.

He checked his interoffice outbox and found the envelope addressed to the Sheriff right where he had left it. Sliding it in the slot he exhaled and pushed the green button to start the shredder.

Grissom always knew it would come down to a choice; it was good to have made his decision.

An hour later he felt the release in his muscles as the Manhattan Express plunged the first deep hill, speeding toward a series of loops and corkscrews that always calmed his mind.

It felt somehow correct to take this ride, to clear away the past few months, years even. This would finish what he started on that coaster ride all those years ago with Selina, cleanse him of what residue of the past still clung to him in his moments of doubt.

Exiting the car he realized what lay ahead had the potential to be the most frightening and exhilarating ride of his life.

XXX

Lighting candles Sara caught herself humming. She settled onto her sofa, pulling her journal into her lap. Dr. Case was right to insist she keep one; it was a valuable tool. Writing without prejudice she scrawled whatever came to her mind, page after page and when she had purged all she could she shut the book.

Tucking her finger under the thin strap of her dress as she removed it she remembered Grissom's hand on her skin. He had said the words to Nick; she hadn't made this up in her head. He wanted the courage to be vulnerable, and when he spoke the need, he had leaned on _her_.

When he had begun to tell her he hadn't wanted to socialize with the others there had been fear in his eyes. Her mind boggled that he still worried she might reject him outright but she was satisfied that she had made the right move in cooling his heels while he was still, in fact her supervisor. He hadn't allowed her to be reckless when she was not yet capable of seeing her folly. It was her turn to protect him from stumbling headlong into a situation before his ducks were neatly in a row.

XXX

Walking down the strip away from New York, New York Grissom dialed his phone.

"Hello Gil, how was the wedding?"

"It was fine Sheriff. I'd like to discuss relieving me of my duties as Acting Lab Assistant."

"Have you been drinking, Gil? It's 11:30pm on a Saturday."

"I realize that Sheriff, but I'm going to have to insist."

"Is there something wrong I should know about?"

"No."

"Can we discuss this Monday morning like civilized people?"

"I'd prefer to finish this now. You can remove me as acting Assistant Director, or have my resignation from the lab entirely, your call."

"Calm down Grissom, there's no reason to talk resignation here. Are you sure you wouldn't want to wait until Monday, exorcize some of the spirits from the reception?"

"I've done all the thinking I need to do. What will it be?"

"As you wish."

Sara may not have heard the quacking, but while she drifted off to sleep with her head sliding down the sofa cushion Grissom's last duck fell in with the rank and file.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Sara was the last person from her shift to leave on Monday afternoon. Almost everyone else had streamed through the doors by seven minutes past five but Sara finally walked to her car at quarter to six.

A piece of white computer paper was tucked under her windshield wiper on the driver's side. Looking around she saw no flyers on the other cars in the lot. She considered grabbing gloves out of her bag before she picked it up but pushed away the paranoia.

Unfolding it in her hands she read the interoffice memo:

To: All Department Heads

Re: Assistant Lab Director Position

This is to inform you that Gil Grissom is no longer the Acting Assistant Director of the lab. Gil has gone above and beyond in his willingness to help the department out at such a difficult time but has asked to be removed from these duties. I feel certain that a permanent choice for this position will be made within the next two weeks.

Sheriff Atwater

Underneath there was one handwritten word.

**Dinner?**

Sara grinned and pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. She glanced around and saw Gil, standing by his car, watching her. When she caught his eye he approached.

He lifted his eyebrows, "So?"

"Are you sure about giving up this opportunity Gris?"

"You know that job isn't for me. I'm where I'm supposed to be."

She couldn't argue with that. They stood in silence for a moment and for once, it was Grissom that broke it.

"What do you say, let's have dinner, see what happens?" a wry smile played at the edges of his mouth.

"I can't. A bunch of us are starting a yoga class tonight, I promised to have dinner with the girls after class."

He looked away. Grissom's lips pursed, his head tilted, it was such a familiar tic. He didn't look at her when he spoke. "Have fun. I'll see you." And turned on his heel to leave.

She got in her car and sat for a moment. What had she done? She did have plans with her friends, and she wasn't going to cancel them just because a guy asked her out, but this was Grissom.

No. It didn't matter. She needed to not let her feelings for him control her.

Still, she could have let him know that not tonight didn't mean not ever. He had covered it well but she knew he was stung. Not willing to risk his complete retreat she dug her cell phone from her pocket and hit #2 on her speed dial.

"Grissom."

"How about breakfast?"

His world turned on a dime. "Breakfast?"

"Before your shift, tonight, well, tomorrow technically I guess."

"You should be sleeping by then."

"So I'll cat nap after dinner with the girls. It's not like we haven't pulled all niters before- I'll be fine."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the seat. He was parked a row behind her and she could watch him in the rear view mirror. His eyes were closed. "Breakfast would be great."

"I'll meet you at Pete's, around12:30?"

"Not Pete's. Too many cops. I know a place, I'll pick you up."

"Gil, are we hiding?"  
"No. I wouldn't say we were advertising, but we're not hiding. I just don't want a bunch of cops assuming we on a break and hanging out with us."

"Mmmm. Good call. Okay, I'm late, I'll see you tonight."


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Hunched over, her fingers turning white, Sara grasped her pen like a lifeline and filled the pages of her journal with oversize frenzied script.

June 26, 06

I feel like I'm going to be sick. This is stupid, I know, but it's finally happening. He didn't take the job, he gave up a promotion and I know he did it for me. Well, at least a little for me. He would have hated the job anyway, but it's clear that what I said to him pushed him to make the decision sooner.

Kendra, Sue, Mae and I started a yoga class tonight at the Y. I was so excited to do this class but I couldn't' quiet my mind. It was right after work, right before class that he showed up in the parking lot. Oh God. He got a haircut. I just realized it, he got a hair cut and his beard was all trimmed and I think those might have been new khaki's he had on. I'm gonna throw up.

I couldn't touch my food at dinner. I managed two margarita's but food was a definite no. The others said I was acting like a suspect but I can't exactly tell them can I? He said we weren't advertising. What does that even mean? I wanted to tell Kendra, it would be good to have a girlfriend to hash this all out with. Stupid Nick. I wish he weren't on his damn honeymoon.

We're having breakfast. He's picking me up. Oh shit. I wonder if he's going to come up. It's not like he hasn't been here before, but this will be weird. Do I offer him coffee? But we're going out. No. I should just meet him downstairs. Yeah.

I showered when I got home and pictured his face the whole way through. What the hell am I going to wear? What do you wear? It's the middle of the night. It's breakfast. That's casual right? But he'd made an effort earlier. Maybe nice pants. It's kinda cool out, the red sweater? It's got cleavage, not y'know, Catherine cleavage, but cleavage. Should there be cleavage?

Crap. If there's cleavage I'll look like I'm trying too hard. But he did get his hair cut. And the beard trimmed. So he's trying too. We're like two junior high dorks going to our first dance. Why won't my hands stop shaking?

I should call him and say I can't come. I can say I hurt myself at yoga, just ask him if we can have dinner tomorrow or something.

I have to just do this.

What will we talk about? We have nothing to talk about. Work crap, that's it. There's not even anything new there, we did all of that at the wedding. I hope Nick's enjoying that honeymoon. Bastard.

We're gonna sit there and stare at each other and it's going to be terrible and then I won't even have the fantasy anymore. I don't want it to be weird with us. It's going to be so uncomfortable to have waited all this time. It's too much pressure.

What about when he drops me off? At least I won't be able to invite him up, he'll have to go to work, but …

What if he tries to kiss me? What if he doesn't and we both sit there not knowing what to say?

"Uh, well, this was a disaster, see you around work."

Yeah. Great. Be careful what you wish for. He can't try to kiss me. If he leans over to kiss me I'm gonna get sick. I'm sick thinking about it. I know, I know I've fantasized about it a billion times, but GOD this isn't some fantasy Grissom. This is actual Grissom. What the hell? I can't kiss him. He won't kiss me. It's Grissom. He wouldn't. Right?

What if he does and it's all awkward and he's a really timid kisser? What if he's a bad kisser? Oh God. What the hell am I doing? I can't do this. I oh shit. He's gonna be here in 15 minutes. I gotta get dressed.

Wish me luck.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

He circled the block 5 times. He was early. She couldn't help smiling every time she watched him check the display on his dash and make another pass by. When she couldn't take it any more she ran out the door, trying to make it look as though she had to get something from her car, just as he pulled around again.

He idled, waited for her to dig for whatever it was she needed. It occurred to her as she dug that a mint wouldn't be the worst idea ever, she was sure she had some in the glove compartment. She pushed aside napkins, gloves, a map and her stomach flopped as a wrapped condom-stashed more than a year ago when she was dating Hank-fell to the floor. She threw it back in quickly and found her little tin of Altoids. Curiously strong…well, strength is strength right? (And curiosity killed the…best not to think about curiosity just now.)

He got out of his car and walked around to meet her. "Do you need to go back up or are you ready?"

"I'm good. Let's go." He opened her door; she took a deep breath and got in. Watching him walk around to climb in beside her she felt a calm begin to spread through her. He could kiss her. He could kiss her for days and she'd be just fine.

He told her where they were going, not because she asked but because it was something to say. It was a small bar, it looked like nothing much but had the best food in the city. The owner, Grady, served breakfast round the clock, and the burgers were the best in Vegas, only nobody knew it.

"Burgers? Have you forgotten something Gris?"

"Tofu burgers AND veggie burgers, and I asked around, everyone says he's the master with them."

She grinned into the darkness. He'd really put some thought into this.

He hadn't lied when he told her it didn't look like much. It looked like someplace she'd be dusting for prints. Inside was small, very dark, a long bar in front with some patrons who looked as if they were permanent fixtures. As they walked past Grissom planted his hand in the small of her back, placing himself between her and the men on the stools who eyed her with blurry lust.

As the bar curved to an end three tiny booths with cracked red plastic seats jutted out to fill the tiny space. He directed her to the furthest booth, where they would be shielded from view of anyone in the place and took a seat across from her.

She looked around warily, "This is some place, did you find it while you were working?"

"No, and trust me."

Her eyes softened when she returned his gaze, "I do."

He asked about yoga, she told him stories about her past attempts with it. One topic flowed gracefully to the next. The food was, as he'd promised, beyond amazing and Grady felt like an old friend from the moment he'd shown up at the side of the table.

At least three times during the meal she found herself laughing so loud that she turned to see if they were disturbing the bar flies. She didn't think about anything, she just sat, and talked and laughed and yeah, loved the man across the table.

Grissom couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was easy. It kept coming up in his mind. Not easy as in slutty, but easy, comfortable, genuine. She was lit from inside and sharing herself with him without censor. He felt compelled to do the same, as much as he could.

The conversation stayed light, never straying toward her family or his ex-relationship. Work barely got an honorable mention.

Far too soon he looked at his watch and sighed. "I hate to say it honey, but I have to get to work, and you have to get to bed."

Their hands were close on the table, each wrapped around a coffee cup, hers decaf, his black and strong. She reached a finger out and lightly caressed the back of his hand. He smiled, pulled some money out of his wallet, took her hand and led her to the car.

On the ride back they talked more about work, he was gearing up for his day, she was coming down from being alone with him. He parked in front of her apartment and hopped out before she could get her seatbelt undone. He opened the car door and then walked her up to the building.

"Chivalry is not dead, apparently." She mused. The butterflies were back.

"Not if I can help it." A beat. "Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?"

She shook her head, he hadn't.

He leaned in, whispered in her ear, "Tonight and every night, you're radiant."

And then his lips were on her cheek, his beard softly tickling her jaw. His hand slipped through her hair and before she could catch her breath he was kissing her. A perfect, soft, sweet, gentle first kiss that weakened her knees and quickened his pulse.

She leaned forward after they broke apart, resting against him. His arms circled her and Sara found the safety in that moment that she thought she had lost forever. "Sleep well sweetheart, I'll see you in the morning."

She backed up; he waited while she unlocked her door. As he walked away she stage whispered so as not to wake the neighbors, "Gris, be careful tonight. I'm not losing you now that I've finally got you."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

He found his team waiting outside his office. "You're late." Catherine huffed before narrowing her eyes at him, "Haircut, beard trim, new clothes…I know you weren't in Night Court. Date Gil?"

"Catherine, you and Greg have a date of your own to worry about at the Shivering Olive." He handed her the assignment slip, Greg stood on his toes to read it over her shoulder. "Someone shiv Olive?"

Gris raised his eyebrows, "Actually, yes. The owner Olivia Sawford was discovered dead in her back room roughly 30 minutes ago. Go!"

Catherine looked slightly stunned at his force but turned quickly, walking into Greg. The two cleared the hall and Grissom sighed at Warrick. "Any new thoughts on the Manzinelli case?"

CSI Brown followed his supervisor into the office, "Archie's looking into his wire transfers. He did a lot of money transfers to Brooklyn, could be connected, could be nothing."

"What about his email records, anything about the money coming and going in them?"

"Nothing that I saw. Did we get his cell phone number?"

"Doubt it. No reason we can't get it now though, what're you thinking?"

"Text messages. It's faster than waiting for someone to check their email right?"

Grissom nodded, "Get on it."

Left alone at his desk he glanced at the phone. She'd be sleeping by now. Focus Grissom!

His cell jarred him and he felt for it at his hip. "Grissom."

"Brass. 1437 Spriten St. Wear your vest and bring your piece. I mean it Gil."

The vest was in the car; he'd throw it on when he got there. His gun was locked in his desk, where it would stay.

Walking past he knocked on the window of the computer lab with the back of his hand and motioned for Warrick to join him. "Vest." Was the sum total of his explanation to the younger CSI.

Warrick made a quick trip to his locker, put on his vest, grabbed his gun and jogged to catch up with Grissom at the Denali.

"Where we headed?"

"Spriten St."

"Bad hood."

"No neighborhood is a good one if we're in it, Warrick."

Turning onto Spriten was an ordeal. Three unidentified white vans and two police cars were abandoned on the corner. As he nudged his vehicle to a stop behind one of the blue and whites Grissom pointed his chin to the street, "Little too quiet out there."

"Shit. The wife's gonna be pissed if I get killed." Warrick grunted before cracking his door open cautiously.

"Mine too." Grissom thought to himself as he shrugged into his bulletproof vest.

A shot from a gun rang out making a sound like a large tree branch cracking overhead.

"Van." Warrick had good eyes.

"Which one?"

"Far right." He had his gun in his hand trained on the window that faced them.

Grissom barely heard him over the sound of gunplay. Three cops ran out of the second house from the corner, trading lead with whoever remained inside. Brass appeared out of nowhere at the driver's side of the Denali, "Jumped the gun, get the hell out of here, I'll call you when it's clear."

There was a time in Grissom's career he would have stayed. Warrick's too.

Sara's admonishment resounded in his mind as he slammed the car into reverse just in time to see the van closest to them explode into flames.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The whine of an ambulance siren was so much more comforting from a distance. Up close it rattled Gil's thinking. There was no reason for sirens anymore. Anyone who was injured was gone; the only ones left to be loaded were the dead. He cast one last glance at the shards of glass poking violently into the space where the rear window of his car had been.

The blast had jumped his nerves. They had been far enough away to only feel a rocking but he had floored the gas and slammed ass end into a telephone pole before tearing down the street, out of the danger zone to wait for Brass' call. He never used to be this edgy.

The entire block was a crime scene; he called Catherine to see where she and Greg were with the dead martini bar owner. Not far enough to leave. He and Warrick would be pulling a double, at least.

Seniority had its perks; he assigned himself the inside of the two houses and three vans involved. Lucky Warrick got to comb the grass for bullet casings and wild rounds.

Hours later, tired of being on all fours Grissom kneeled up from his position on the floor. His back cracked as he stretched and winced at the blinding pain that ripped across his shoulders. He closed his eyes against the blinding sun streaming in the window and stayed still for a moment, willing away the pain.

The feel of a hand on his head startled him. Opening his eyes and shielding them he found Sara next to him, her fingers lazily running through the silvering curls. "Got sent to help out. What the hell happened to your car?"

He grunted as he struggled to his feet, "Small accident. Everyone's fine."

"Whiplash?" she arched an eyebrow at him as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm old, I'm crumbling."

"I'll make a note to be careful. So where are we?"

It was encouraging to know that they could still work side by side.

He took photos while she dug a bullet out of a wall. He had his back to her, "Hope you're well rested, this is going to be a long one."

"As it happens, I didn't get very much sleep last night." She smirked and continued to pull pieces of plaster away from her prize with forceps.

"Nightmares?"

"Mmmm, not quite. Something sure kept me restless though." It fell from the wall into her waiting plastic vile with a satisfying clink.

He placed his palm on her waist to move her out of the way of his shot. "Sorry to hear that."

The warmth of his hand spread through her "I'll survive. I imagine I have a number of restless nights in my future."

His lips quivered, almost smiling but not giving in to it. "Count on it." He promised before leaving her to finish the room while he moved to the next.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

"You have almost no psychology books in here." Sara ran her finger across the spines of Dr. Case's library.

"There's psychology everywhere, not just in text books."

A smile, a nod, "Yeah, I guess I can see that. Hey, this is a great carving, is it African?"

"My husband brought it back from his last trip. Yes."

The doctor let her roam and explore the room. Sara had been seeing her for five months but only in the last few visits had she begun to notice anything more than the window and the sofa. It was a good sign.

"Sara? How was the wedding?"

"Great. It was, great." She couldn't hide the smile.

"You want to tell me?"

Sara sat, her hands folded, her knees fell apart. She leaned forward and grinned at the doctor. "Grissom, we, uh, it seems so weird to say out loud. We went on a date."

There was no change in Dr. Case's expression. "How did this happen?"

From the wedding toast to the kiss at the door, Sara relayed the key moments of the past few days. She tried to keep her voice even, to stop the giddiness from bubbling up to the surface. It felt so good to finally be able to tell someone, someone who would understand what this meant to her.

"So you're happy?"

"Yeah, I'm happy, but before you say anything let me read you what I wrote in my journal when I got home from breakfast."

"You're journaling, that's good."

Sara pulled the book from her bag; the page was marked with a plain white napkin. There was no name printed on it, but she would always know it was from a back booth in a little Vegas dive with amazing tofu burgers.

"I was worried for nothing. It was so scary to think about being real with him because I was afraid of not being able to keep up. Crazy. Well, not crazy. Uncalled for though. It was so simple. I can't believe it. I didn't even think about who he'd want me to be. I just showed up and went with whatever and it was so beautiful. I'll admit the way he looked at me across the table made me tingle inside, it made me swell with excitement and pride because he looked at me like I was the most interesting, beautiful creature he could imagine. It was all there in his eyes. The thing that made it really special though, was that I felt it. I didn't believe it because it was in his eyes, I could see it in his eyes because I believed it."

Sara shut the book and looked up at Dr. Case, "Thank you."

"You're the one doing the work Sara. Do you think you're ready to run on your own?"

"No. I think I'm just learning walk with someone."

THE END

A/N: Forty chapters seem enough and this would appear to be the end of this part of Sara and Grissom's journey toward each other. I am toying with idea of making this into a series and have a few ideas for the next phase of their relationship. Please let me know if you feel I should continue, or if things should be left as they are. I can't promise I'll take your advice either way, but you never know. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with the story, especially when things looked bleak for our favorite couple. Special thanks to those who reviewed once or faithfully. Oh, and one last thing…

Hey Fish, did you love the story?


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